Under The Stars
by Lianna H
Summary: Sometimes you need to go on a vacation. Just to forget about reality for a while and relax with your friends. Just to forget about everyday grown-up responsibilities, failed marriages, unrequited love, and bad break-ups. And maybe realize that the person you were looking for your whole life was closer than you always thought. Mondler, AU.
1. The One Where Monica Peeked

A/N: This is a multi-chapter AU story about Mondler. The first half of the fic will mainly focus on their friendship, and eventually, this friendship will turn into something more. Within two seconds into the story, you will know where in the storyline this fic starts.

Disclaimer: Yes, it came as a surprise to me as well, but I don't own Friends.

* * *

 **Under The Stars**

 **Chapter 1: The One Where Monica Peeked**

Chandler walked out of the men's room and frowned when he saw a familiar person leaning against the wall next to the door. Only an hour ago he had brought her to her hotel room, to prevent her from drinking too much and the following consequences that would bring.

"Mon, what are you doing here?" he asked confused looking at her, crossing his arms. She was looking at the ground, her shoulders sagged. She still looked as miserable as an hour ago, if not more.

She suddenly straightened up and looked up at him, as if she had just realized his presence. "You are not a stranger," she said defeated as she narrowed her eyes, "are you?"

He tilted his head to one side, wondering if she had taken some drinks from the minibar because she seemed further away from soberness than earlier in the evening. "No…," he replied hesitantly, but also curious to know where this would go.

"But I do know you…"

"That's right," he smiled.

"Oh! I know! You are, uh, are an actor!" she exclaimed happily, pointing at him.

"That's Joey," he frowned, throwing his hands up. What was it with people mistaking him for somebody else tonight?

"No," she dismissed with a wave of the hand. "You are Lea-Leoni," she shook her head, "Jack from Titanic! I have to tell Rachel! And you have to draw my nakedness too. In my hotel room, of course. I'm not getting naked here," she laughed incredulously, grabbing his hand and pulling him with her for a few steps, coming to halt as he didn't move along.

Chandler was amazed that even when she was drunk, she still had no problem rambling. "As tempting as it sounds, we both know that you will regret that later, simply because I am Chandler, not Jack."

Monica just continued staring confused at him. "Who?"

"I live across the hall from you?" he looked at her dumbfounded. The alcohol had a really weird name-forgetting effect on her. Or maybe he just wasn't as important to her as she was to him. "I was your brother's college roommate?" Still nothing. "I peed on you?"

He saw recognition dawning on her face as she connected the dots. "Oh…, of course. You're Chananan-Chandara, uh," she struggled, still having a hard time with long words, "Miss Bong," she giggled then turned serious. "Your speechy-talk-thing wasn't funny."

"Well, thanks," he replied, now knowing for sure that nobody liked his speech and probably would have to make some changes in the one for tomorrow.

Monica walked two steps back to him, stood on her toes and whispered, but failed as she didn't lower her voice, in his ear: "You want to know a little secret?"

Chandler grabbed her by the elbow, as she almost fell, not being able to balance on her toes. "Always."

Apparently, she also had a problem with standing on two feet, as she now leaned against his side. And she wasn't even wearing her high heels from earlier in the evening anymore.

"I peeked."

"You peeked?" Chandler repeated confused, trying to hold her up.

"When you were peeing."

Oh god. Of all things, that was probably the last thing he'd expected her to say. He felt his cheeks burning up. And even though he didn't think she would remember this conversation, he tried to respond as casual as he could. "Well, isn't that just great."

"No worries," she smiled as she looked up at him. He could smell the earlier consumed scotch. "I didn't tell anyone."

That didn't put him at ease at all. "Phoebe and Rachel know anyway, because of the handcuffs-incident and apparently, Ross and Joey know too."

Monica narrowed her eyes at him before her memory caught up with her again and shook her head. "Rachel was lying, she didn't see anything. She just wanted you back in the cuffs."

"Of course…" Why wasn't he surprised?

"No no no," she said immediately. "It wasn't bad. Very good, acti-actul… really. Better than Joey."

"Well, thanks," he said shyly and he knew he was blushing again. For the first time this evening he hoped that is was true that drunk people always spoke the truth. And he was glad that Joey had told him what he had done in Monica's apartment when he had just moved in. Otherwise, he couldn't explain why Monica knew about Joey, without them having had any kind of intimate moments.

Only the thought of those dating made him shiver. He didn't exactly know why, since he wished them both the best.

He turned his attention back to the person next to him. "Now, let's get you back to your room."

"So you can draw me?"

"No," he chuckled, "so you can sleep." He knew he shouldn't be laughing at his friend's drunken state. They always stated that 'drunk Monica' was fun. And he'd always agreed to that because her comments sure were fun. But she definitely wasn't more fun than usual. Especially when you realized that the only reason why Monica would grab more glasses than usual, was when she was depressed and/or when her life wasn't going as she had imagined.

"Are we gonna sleep together?" she said sounding hopeful and Chandler wondered if she thought he was someone else again.

"No, because first, you are drunk, second, we both know you don't want that and will regret it in the morning, and third, we couldn't because," he paused, "I have my reasons."

"No, of course, we can't," she grinned after a few seconds, "because you're Chandler."

"I can't hear that enough."

"And I am not drunk!" she said defensively.

"Yes, you are."

"Okay, maybe a little," she whispered. Apparently, she was more agreeable when intoxicated. Something he didn't mind at the moment.

"Now, come on," he prompted as he let go of her and put his hand on her lower back to guide her out of the room.

"No! We can't go in there!" she said in horror, pointing toward the main room.

"Why not?" he grinned, not being able to stay serious at the terrified look on Monica's face.

"Because my parents can't see me drunk! They have never seen me drunk!"

Chandler looked at her, confused. He had a hard time believing that. And if they really hadn't, they should have noticed when she stumbled back downstairs. He couldn't imagine that she didn't draw any attention.

"What if you just hold onto me tightly, look the other way and be really quiet," he responded after a moment, hoping he could convince her.

He was surprised as she grabbed and squeezed his cheeks. "You are a genius!"

"Thanks," he replied, unsure. He offered her his arm to take. She hooked her arm with his, while her other hand grabbed that arm too. And Chandler wondered for the hundredth time in these few minutes if he should really consider visiting the gym as he now had to support her whole body with one arm.

"You should stop with your stupid job and…," she continued, not noticing Chandler's struggling, "and become an Einstein!"

"What a great idea!" he said feigning excitement. "I will consider it."

"Good."

They started walking out of the hallway and Chandler was glad to see that her parents were still in conflict with the Walthams. He just hoped that they hadn't noticed Monica's drunkenness earlier and that Monica wouldn't be hungover the next day. Because she didn't deserve more criticism, judgment or negativity this trip.

So Chandler decided that for the rest of the time they would spend in London, he would keep her away from her parents and the alcohol.

And he promised himself that he would make sure she had fun and didn't have to worry about anything.

* * *

A loud, rhythmic and annoying sound was what woke her. It was even more annoying than the alarm clock back home. At least she could turn that off.

This, however, not. And it only seemed to get louder and louder every second that passed by. Who the hell thought it was a good idea to have music on in the middle of the night? And why had nobody complained about it yet?

She was about to get out of bed to go in search of the noise to stop it herself when she realized that the origin of the sound was she closer than she thought.

It was the pounding in her own head that was driving her insane.

Scotch on the rocks with a twist, a wedding that wasn't even hers, her critic parents, the man who thought she was Ross's mother and even more scotch on the rocks with a twist wasn't a good combination. Especially not on the night before her brother's wedding, where she was one of the bridesmaids. And therefore couldn't afford to give a bad appearance in front of everyone. And to give her mother another reason to be disappointed with her.

She groaned in frustration, only to regret it immediately.

After a few seconds of recovering, she opened her eyes slowly.

She was surprised to see that she was not in her own room. Her room had one bed and, unless she was seeing double, this one had two.

She really had no idea what was going on. The last thing she remembered was opening that minibar as soon as Chandler left the room. Just to forget what the drunken man had accused her of being.

And apparently, it hadn't even worked, since she could still remember that.

A moment later she heard another sound and that scared her. She froze, afraid that she would find someone on her other side.

She tilted her head a bit and was relieved, but also surprised to find Chandler sitting against the headboard on the bed closest to the door, whispering on the phone.

How did she end up here?

Studying him, she noticed the big smile on his face and his free hand was tracing patterns on the bedsheet. If she didn't know better she would have thought he was talking to his girlfriend.

"Hey," she said as soon as he hung up the phone.

He jumped up a little, looking back at her with his eyes wide open, like a deer caught in headlights.

"Hi-hey,' he stuttered, shifting on his bed to sit on the edge.

"Who were you talking to?" she frowned at his odd behavior.

"No one," he answered, avoiding eye contact. "Just Doug. He forgot when I was coming back."

Monica narrowed her eyes. If he hadn't been so caught off guard, she probably would have believed it. But now, she knew he wasn't talking the truth.

She decided to bring it back up later when her head wasn't about to explode.

"So, how do you feel?" he asked, concerned, finally meeting her eyes as he leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees.

"Horrible," she admitted simply. There was no point in lying. "A ticking bomb is about to combust in my head."

"Wouldn't have expected anything else after meeting you last night outside the men's room," he smiled.

"What was I doing there?" she asked, confused, sitting up a little while keeping a hand on her forehead.

"Looking for a someone, a stranger or something," he paused. "You don't remember?"

She felt her cheeks burning up and hoped he didn't notice, as she suddenly remembered something.

After she decided that drinking wasn't helping her depressed mood, she came up with a different plan: looking for a man she didn't know, to have some meaningless sex with. Just to feel desired for a while.

"No," she lied.

Fortunately, Chandler didn't notice or decided not to ask further questions.

"So, the ticking bomb is still in your head?"

She nodded and watched as he stood up, grabbed a glass of water and what seemed like some medicine off the nightstand, before sitting down on her bed by her feet.

"Here, take this," he said handing it to her. "It works like magic, as I can speak from my own experience."

She took it gratefully, touched that he had provided it for her beforehand, so she didn't have to go in search herself.

"That still doesn't explain why I am in your room," she stated, placing the empty glass back in its previous place.

Chandler nodded and ran a hand through his hair, before explaining, "After I explained to you that I was Chandler and not Leonardo DiCaprio, I brought you back to your room, again. On our way, we ran into Joey, who was on his way to his and my room with a bridesmaid, champagne, and strawberries. I, of course, wasn't very fond of that idea, since that would leave me without a place to sleep. So I suggested that you and Joey changed rooms for the night, and probably for the rest of the trip," he shrugged. "We grabbed your stuff and as soon as you laid on the bed, you fell asleep."

"Ah," she said after a few seconds. Her brain having a hard time processing everything he just said. Her headache was becoming less, though, which confirmed Chandler's statement about the medication. "So, you didn't score last night?" she teased with a smile.

"Actually, I did," he said proudly. "In fact, somebody offered to sleep with me."

Monica raised an eyebrow, impressed. "Somebody I know?"

"You," he smiled from ear to ear, wiggling his eyebrows.

"Yeah, right," she scoffed, not believing it for the world.

"Well, you better believe it, baby," he singsonged. "You came on to me! You even wanted to strip for me," he pointed at her.

She swatted his hand away and narrowed her eyes. "Then tell me, why didn't we?"

"Because you were so drunk that you probably thought I was DiCaprio again. And I don't fool around with intoxicated girls. At least, not when I am sober myself," he corrected himself. "Second, because we both knew that you wouldn't want that and will regret it in the morning, and third, because-"

"You had your reasons," she finished for him as another part of her memory came back. Monica moved from under the covers to sit next Chandler.

"So, you do remember?" Chandler wondered.

She thought hard about that, but without luck. "No, just that." That wasn't the entire truth, but he didn't have to know that. He nodded. "So, what other reasons did you have?" she looked him in the eye. She couldn't think of a third reason he would use.

"Can't a guy have secrets?"

"You don't have secrets," she snorted. "You are horrible at keeping secrets."

"I'm an excellent secret keeper," he defended himself. She raised an eyebrow at him. Everyone knew he couldn't keep secrets. "Okay, maybe not other people's secrets," he admitted, "but when it comes to my own…" he finished, his hand imitating to zip his lips.

"I doubt that." She was pretty sure that she knew everything about him. Well, apart from his middle name.

"Oh," he shook his head, smiling, "there is so much you don't know."

"Like…" she prompted.

"Nuh-uh," he shook his head again. "How are you feeling now?" Chandler asked quickly when she was about to say something. "Did the bomb explode yet?"

"Much better," she said truthfully. "My head still hurts, but less. It seems like your magic medication has disposed of the bomb. Thanks."

"No problem," he dismissed. "You want to go back to sleep?"

"No." She was wide awake now. Although it would be nice to sleep the hangover off, she knew for sure she wouldn't be able to fall asleep anyway. "Do you?"

"Can't sleep even if I wanted too. My mind thinks it's still too early for that."

She nodded, relieved. She didn't want to be alone. And he had been good company so far, but she wouldn't have expected anything else from him. This was a nice distraction. It helped her forget everything that had happened the evening before.

"What do you want to do? Choose anything you want and I will arrange it."

She smiled, very moved that he was willing to do that. "Just something that will distract me from my headache."

Chandler frowned. "I suppose we can find a cleaning cart somewhere in this hotel," he said, with a disgusted look on his face.

Monica laughed. "We can do something we will both enjoy," she replied. He deserved that much, after what he had done for her. "And I don't think those cleaning fumes would help my hangover."

"Right," he nodded. A few seconds of silence followed. "I know something!" he announced happily as he stood up and grabbed her hand, pulling her to her feet as well.

"What?" she asked curiously, holding onto his hand tightly as a head rush hit her, making the room spin for a while.

"Just trust me," he replied simply, guiding her out of the room and she obliged happily.


	2. The One With The Hiding

A/N: A big thank you to everyone who read, reviewed, followed and/or favorited the first chapter. You are the best!

* * *

 **Chapter 2: The One With The Hiding**

Chandler tried with all his power to hold back his laughter as he rushed through the hallways of the hotel in search of their destination.

It was, after all, 3 a.m. and he assumed that people here in London were just as frustrated as New Yorkers if their sleep was interrupted.

He came to a halt and stood with his back to a door as he looked around to make sure they were alone.

"What is behind that door?"

Chandler looked at Monica, who asked for the millionth time what his plan was. Every time she was becoming more impatient. He knew she liked to be surprised. But if she had only a little suspicion that others were planning something, she was determined to find out.

"Stop being so impatient or I will send you back to your room," he threatened, pointing a finger at her. He knew he had her this way.

"Yes, mom," she sighed.

"Don't 'yes, mom' me."

"Okay, dad," she said instead, trying to be serious, but her eyes showed amusement.

That wasn't much better. "If you weren't so miserable, I would have carried you back to our room," he said, crossing his arms, leaning with his back against the door.

Monica laughed out loud and even though she was insulting him, he couldn't help smiling a little himself. He was glad that he had succeeded in making her laugh again. It made her look even more beautiful.

"Yeah, like you could," she said after a while when she was able to speak again.

"Are you that heavy?" he teased riskily, hoping she wouldn't take it the wrong way. Luckily, she just slapped him playfully. "Besides, I practically carried you upstairs a few hours ago. So, you bet I can."

She ducked her head, suddenly shy, making it clear to him that she didn't want to bring that up again. She probably remembered more than she had told him.

"You want to know your surprise?" he rubbed his hands, changing the subject.

She nodded happily like a little girl who was finally allowed to open her birthday present.

He glanced around one last time and when he was sure no one else was around, he quickly ushered them through the door.

While turning on the lights, Chandler had his eyes fixed on Monica's face, so he could see her reaction.

"What are we doing in the kitchen?" she asked, confused. But the look on her face revealed her true reaction.

"You are gonna bake or cook, while I try to do the same, but will end up burning everything," he replied, watching as she walked further into the room and looked around in adoration.

"Really?" she asked hopefully.

He nodded. "You said you needed to do something to distract yourself and I know how much you like to cook, so…" he gestured with his hands around the room.

The next thing he knew he had a handful of Monica. With her arms around his neck and her head pressed against his chest, she gave him a giant hug, which he received and returned heartily.

"Thank you," she said, "that's so sweet."

"Well, I try," he murmured into her hair. He gently grabbed her by the shoulders after a moment to pull her away from him a little. "And if this isn't enough, you could always clean afterward." She chuckled as she shook her head. "Come on, let's get you an apron," he said, turning her around to steer her toward the stoves.

"What if somebody catches us?" she asked, suddenly scared, turning around again.

"I highly doubt that at this hour of the night," he replied, tilting his head to the side. "But if that happens, we will just run or hide."

He watched as she thought that over for only a fraction of a second before she agreed, "Okay. Now, let's get started!"

* * *

"Yes! I did It!"

Monica turned around toward her friend, who was doing his happy dance. "It was about time."

"Look at them," Chandler said proudly, causing Monica to walk toward him. "They have the right amount of ingredients and this time they are not burnt."

She looked at his cookies and it did look very tasty, so she could understand his happiness. "I will have to see about that when they have cooled down. But I'm very proud of you," she patted his shoulder.

"Thanks," he said gratefully with a soft smile as he looked at her.

She smiled back. "Now, I have to get back to my third batch of chocolate candy," she said, walking back to her previous spot. Her mouth filled with saliva just thinking about eating those little sweets. "While you succeeded your first out of four tries in baking those simple cookies, I made an apple pie and thirty pieces of candy," she said smugly as she resumed her task.

"Hey!" he exclaimed, but she didn't turn to face him. "I also made pancakes!"

"Good for you."

"I think you should be nicer to the person who arranged this."

His comment made her stop putting the final touches on her candy. She had totally forgotten why she was here in the first place. Her headache was still present, but not to a point that it bothered her.

He sure had done an amazing job in making this night a success. She hadn't enjoyed herself so much in a long time.

She turned around to thank him for everything but saw that he was occupied with his cookies.

"Where did you get those containers?" she asked as she watched him pack up his baked goods.

"From one of the cabinets," he shrugged, not looking up.

"Chandler, you can't just steal that," she accused him sternly.

His head shot up. "And what would you call using ingredients from the hotel's kitchen, then?" he shot back. "At least I can bring this back, which would mean I borrowed them, which can not be said about the food."

She made a face at him, not having an answer to that. Simply because he was right. But she would not admit that out loud.

"Could you bring me some too if you're finished?" she asked instead, by that having solved the problem of how to transport everything.

"Sure."

"Here you go."

She turned around, expecting to be handed the containers, instead he blinded her as he threw flour all over her.

She screamed in frustration as she could feel the flour going into her clothes. What the hell did he think he was doing? She thought he wanted to cheer her up and up until five seconds ago, he had done an excellent job. Now, he had ruined it all.

After she wiped her face, she opened her eyes to find Chandler doubled over in laughter in front of her.

"Do you think that's funny?!" she exclaimed angrily, taking a step toward him.

Chandler held up his hands in front of him, taking a few steps away from her. A scared expression had taken over his face.

"S-sorry," he stuttered, scared.

Pointing a finger at him, she moved closer to him but didn't get any nearer as he kept walking backward. He would have to pay for what he had just done, so she was determined to take revenge on him.

"Do you have any idea how long it will take to get this out of my hair?" she asked, annoyed, plucking at her hair.

"I am so, so sorry," he apologized, his eyes begging for forgiveness. "I won't do it again."

"Well, you better not. I am stronger than you and the next time I will kick your ass," she threatened.

She watched him contemplate his reply as he took another step backward. But in the progress, he tripped over a trashcan, making him fall to the ground.

Karma was already doing its work.

Approaching him, she had to hide her grin. He could be so clumsy sometimes.

"You okay?" she asked concerned, giving up the serious act as she kneeled down by his side.

"Yeah," he answered with a grimace as he rubbed the back of his head, still laying his back.

"Good," Monica grinned. "Then I guess it's payback time."

From behind her back, she retrieved a whipped cream can, which she had grabbed from the counter when she walked toward him, and sprayed it all over his face.

"What the hell?!"

Monica just laughed and laughed and watched as he sat up and cleaned his eyes. He looked like a blue-eyed snowman. Only the carrot was missing.

"That's payback, baby," she replied after her laughter had subsided enough for her to speak again.

"So, you weren't mad at me?" he frowned and she nodded. "And what about your hair?"

She dismissed it with a wave of the hand. "Just a shower and shampoo and it will be gone. I've had worse things in my hair, like marinara sauce," she shivered at the memory. She had almost shaved her head, so long it had taken her to get the sauce and, most of all, the smell out.

"You devil woman," he accused her trying to sound serious, but his cream covered smile gave him away.

Monica stood up and held her hand out for him to take. "Come on, let's pack up, so we can get out of here before the hotel wakes up."

"Or you could lick my face clean," he teased with a wink.

"In your dreams, Bing," she rolled her eyes, blushing slightly as that image unexpectedly shot through her mind. Instead of doing the erotic action, she threw a towel at him.

"My favorites, indeed."

She turned away from him as she sensed that the color of her cheeks only got redder.

Their time in London had been very eventful so far, but she had a feeling this was only the beginning.

* * *

Everything was packed and they were ready to go. As fun as it had been, he couldn't wait to be back in their room as the feeling that the hotel staff could walk in any second, only got stronger.

Back in their room, they would be safe and they could eat their baked goods until exhaustion got the better of themselves.

Chandler really wanted to know if he had done a good job on the cookies and therefore couldn't wait for Monica's expert opinion. Then he would know if he had failed or should warn Monica that she had a new concurrent.

And, of course, he wanted to eat whatever she had made. It already looked so good and it would, without a doubt, taste even better.

He shook his head as he glanced over at Monica, who was cleaning the kitchen counter, unable to leave it messy. It was Monica after all.

You couldn't even see she had been drunk a few hours ago. It was quite incredible.

But, then again, she was a pretty incredible woman.

Chandler's head shot up as he heard voices on the other side of the door.

Footsteps were getting closer and voices were getting louder as he frantically looked around for a place to hide.

Where to go?

* * *

The rhythmic pounding was back. Only this time it wasn't annoying. It did scare her though, as the pounding wasn't in her head, but in her chest.

Was it adrenaline? Or something else?

With one of his arms around her waist and the other around her shoulders, Chandler held her against him, their fronts pressed together.

The pounding was confusing as hell and she hoped that he didn't notice or could read her thoughts, for that matter.

Because the longer they stayed like this, the more she became aware of. She thought she knew everything there was to know about him.

How wrong had she been?

They had shared many hugs in the past years, but none of them lasted long enough for her to notice certain things.

For example: with his head resting on top of hers, she realized that he was tall. Taller than she remembered.

Or the fact that he seemed stronger than her recollection. They always thought of him as the weakest one. But how he held her firm, but gentle as if to protect her, against him, she knew he was stronger than they, including himself, had always given him credit for.

In the dark room, every part of her body that was in contact with his was on fire. It was cold, but she was sweating like crazy.

She kept her head against his chest, afraid to make a move or a sound.

Keeping her eyes closed, she tried to think of other things, but she was unsuccessful.

In her friend's arms, she felt disturbingly comfortable, which scared her to the core.

She just hoped that they could escape the storage room soon.

* * *

Panting hard, Chandler finally made it into his hotel room, only to find Monica already making herself comfortable on his bed.

"I won, you sucker!" she said triumphantly.

He took a deep breath, trying to regulate his breathing. "Well, you didn't have to carry 10 pounds worth of food with you."

"Stop being so whiny and give me my food," she held out her hands.

"Stop being so demanding, then maybe I will," he teased back.

Monica sighed deeply. "Will you please bring me my food, my dearest, sweetest and best friend, Mr. Bing?"

"Okay," he relented, placing the food in the center of the bed. "But you don't have to kiss ass."

She rolled her eyes. "You're impossible."

"You should have known by now," he grinned at her. "Why are you on my bed, by the way?"

"Are you gonna kick me out?" she raised her eyebrows.

"I would never kick you out of bed, you know that," he winked. Someone as wonderful and beautiful as Monica didn't even have to ask for permission to stay in his bed.

"I know," she smiled back. "I just didn't want crumbs on my bed."

Chandler nodded understandingly. Monica's reaction to crumbs was almost as horrible as the way he made passes at women. "Then don't be surprised when you find me next to you in bed in the morning, because I couldn't sleep due to the crumbs."

"Then you shouldn't be surprised if I kicked you out," she grinned as she grabbed a piece of her candy.

She really had spent too much time with him. She sounded more like him every day. "You are mean in London."

"You too, according to Joey."

"Thanks," Chandler sighed and settled down next to Monica. It still bothered him how he had abandoned Joey in London. He still couldn't explain why he had done that. Sure, he was embarrassed by Joey's actions, but that had never stopped him before.

Luckily Monica decided to change the subject. Probably, because she noticed his discomfort. She always noticed such things.

"So, where are those 'perfect' cookies?"

He opened one of the containers to give her one and watched as she hesitantly took a bite. He couldn't blame her. Even though they looked good, he was aware that his cooking skills didn't go any further than baking pancakes.

Her nodding approval, made him sigh in relief.

"So, you think I should change my job and sent an application to Allesandro's?"

She chuckled, showing her cookie covered teeth. "I don't think you would like it if I kept screaming at you that you're doing everything wrong."

"You're right about that," he laughed. "I would unfriend you after one day," he grinned at her, earning a slap on the arm from her. "Just kidding, I could never dislike you," he said truthfully.

"Likewise."

He smiled gratefully, accepting her compliment. He didn't receive many compliments. And if he got any, he always wondered if it was sincere.

Except with Monica. Because she wouldn't give a compliment unless she meant it.

And for that he was grateful.


	3. The One With All The Phone Calls

**Chapter 3: The One With All The Phone Calls**

"I'm getting married today! Whoo-hoo!"

Monica woke up upon hearing her brother's excited screaming. And even though she didn't know how late it was, she knew it was way too early for that.

"Morning, Ross," came Chandler's reply.

Only then did she realize that she was still in his bed, under the covers and fully dressed. She figured she had fallen asleep during the movie they ended up watching. And he had probably covered her up with a blanket. Such a simple and natural gesture for the two of them, but nonetheless extremely appreciated.

Looking over at Chandler, she guessed he had fallen asleep only a bit later, as the TV was still on, showing infomercials now. And he was still in his TV-watching position: above the covers, on his stomach and with his head at the foot of the bed.

Her attention was drawn back to her brother, who was still in euphoric spheres.

"I'm getting married to-" he stopped as he saw Monica. He darted his eyes a few times between his sister and his best friend. "Chandler! What is my sister doing in your bed?!" he demanded to know as he furiously walked further into the room, toward his destination: Chandler.

Sleepily and rubbing her eyes, she watched as Chandler jumped up and practically flew over the other bed to keep a safe distance from Ross.

"We-" Chandler started in an attempt to explain but was cut off by Ross, who had drawn his own conclusions already, as usual.

"I cannot believe this!" he threw his hands in the air, then pointed at Chandler. "I trusted you! I thought you were my best friend! I cannot believe this!" he repeated, walking around the bed to get to Chandler.

Chandler was surprisingly a lot faster and energetic than Ross, especially when you realized he had just woken up. He ran over both beds, almost stepping on Monica's legs, to get at her side to protect himself.

Monica took this as her cue to stand in before anyone got hurt.

"Ross!" she stood up and snapped her fingers in front of his face, to get his attention. "If you could just open your eyes a little bit further," she began, irritated, "you will notice that we are still wearing yesterday's clothes and realize that, in fact, nothing happened!"

Ross looked back and forth between the two again, a thoughtful expression on his face as he tried to figure out if what his sister just said was true.

Finally, the features on his face softened. "I'm sorry," he replied quietly, taking a step back. "I have a lot going on in my head right now. The wedding almost being canceled and stuff. It's just…" he stopped as he made strange waving movements with his hands around his head, all the while making a weird hollow sound. "You know?" Both Chandler and Monica nodded slowly.

A long awkward pause followed in which Monica wished her brother would just disappear.

"I guess I should be going then," Ross said, pointing with his thumb at the door behind him. "Bye."

"Bye," the other two replied and Monica was glad that Chandler let out a sigh of relief as well when their friend was gone.

"Ugh," Chandler muttered as he fell backward on the bed. "Those mood swings of your brother sure are something. He must be due any day now."

"Tell me about it," she chuckled, falling down next to him, closing her eyes. "What time is it?"

"4 a.m." he answered after a few seconds.

"What the hell is my brother doing up at four in the morning?" she asked, sitting up and looking down at Chandler, who was staring intently at his watch.

"…in New York."

She looked at him, astounded. "You haven't set your watch to London time yet?" she scolded him.

"Nah," he shrugged.

"Then how will you know what time it is?" she frowned.

He sat up a little, resting on his elbows behind him, as he narrowed his eyes at her. "I just add five hours. That isn't so hard, is it?"

"No," she lied, looking away. Nobody had to know the struggle she had with reading time. And Chandler's way would only make it more difficult. It was so embarrassing. It was bad enough that Ross knew.

Chandler kept staring at her, unconvinced. "Now that I'm up," she changed the subject quickly and stood up, avoiding his gaze, "I might as well take that long-awaited shower."

"I am so not ready for the day to start," he groaned as he rolled on his stomach. "Wake me up when the wedding march starts. Goodnight," he mumbled into the sheets.

"Sweet dreams," she laughed at how he laid on the bed: his legs dangling off the bed and his face buried in the mattress. She shook her head, still grinning, as she walked into the bathroom, but not before taking one last glance at him.

He sure was one of a kind.

* * *

Deep in thought, Chandler worked on his best man speech while Monica took a shower.

His first intention was to sleep unit the last minute when he really had to start to get ready for the wedding. But then he remembered he had to rewrite his speech.

He had gone through a lot of effort to become one of the best men and he was not going to let Ross down.

He had a tough audience, though, as he concluded from the horrible silence he received at the rehearsal dinner.

Maybe British people just didn't have any sense of humor.

If that was the case, he was in big trouble. Making jokes and making people laugh was, most definitely, the only thing he could.

At least that's what he used to think. Now everything that he wrote seemed wrong.

Midway another sentence that was destined to be doomed, the bathroom door opened, causing Chandler to look up and be faced with Monica.

With just a bathrobe on and without any make-up, she looked more naked than ever. And therefore even more beautiful, making him wonder what new levels of gorgeous would be accomplished if she was completely naked.

Maybe he shouldn't have rejected her when she suggested for him to make a drawing of her in the nude.

He was really glad that Ross wasn't here right now, as he stared a second, make that a lot of seconds, too long at Ross's sister. Ross would kill him and he wouldn't be able to blame him for doing so.

He needed to say something. Anything, but all words seemed to have left his mind.

For once, luck seemed to be in his favor as he was saved by the ringing of the phone. He offered Monica a smile, which was his best option at the moment since his mouth would only produce incoherent words if he opened it, before he reached for the phone.

"Chandler Bing," he answered formally, like when he had to answer the phone at work. His eyes followed Monica around the room.

"Hello, Mr. Bing," Phoebe said seductively.

"Hey Pheebs…" he replied, unsure. "What's up?"

"Stop that! Stop that right now!"

Chandler immediately held the phone away from his ear as Phoebe shouted into the phone. Monica shot him a questioning look from her position by her suitcase, in search of clothes. He just shrugged.

"I wasn't doing anything," he said defensively to Phoebe, kind of scared that she somehow, with her psychic powers, could see him watching Monica's every move.

"I wasn't talking to you," she laughed as if he should have known. "I was talking to the babies," she said matter-of-factly, but that made even less sense to him.

"What? Why?" he asked confused as he watched as Monica walked back into the bathroom.

He heard her sigh and he was pretty sure she was rolling her eyes as well. "The babies are wrestling, but we just ate. And everyone knows that you have to wait half an hour after you ate, before you sport," she raised her voice at the end of the sentence as if the babies would hear her.

"Right…" He would never understand Phoebe. No, scratch that, he would never understand women. "So, tell me, why are you up at," he paused as he glanced at his watch, "4:30 in the morning?"

"I'm not up early. I was up all night calling you and about everyone in London when neither of you answered," she began, irritated. "Where have you been?!" she raised her voice again and Chandler was sure blood was flooding out of his ears. He reminded himself to never have a phone conversation with Phoebe again. Especially not a pregnant Phoebe.

"I was-" he started, but was interrupted.

"That's great! But we have a real problem here! Rachel is on her way to London to declare her love to Ross!"

Chandler sat upright. "She what?!" he asked, shocked. Sure, it was no secret that Rachel still loved Ross, but he never thought she would admit it and act on it.

"You heard me. Now, you will stop her, right?" she asked, hopeful.

"I'll try," he answered, trying to sound as determined as possible, to put Phoebe at ease. He knew he needed help, though, because he was sure that he wasn't able to convince Rachel to stop her actions.

He listened as Phoebe let out a sigh of relief. "Good, it's your responsibility now," she demanded strictly. "I'm going to sleep," she yawned. "Calling London is exhausting."

"I'm sure it is," he chuckled. "Sleep tight."

"Bye."

As he placed the phone back on the cradle, Monica re-entered, fully clothed now.

"What did Phoebe have to say?" she asked curiously.

He shifted on the bed, so he was facing her. "Rachel is coming," he said, still shocked by the information himself.

"What?!"

"Rachel is on her way to stop the wedding. We have to stop her," he repeated what Phoebe had directed him to do.

He watched as she paced back and forth, a disbelieving look on her face and her hands in her hair.

"I can't believe her!" she yelled, frustrated. A few moments later she stopped in front of him. "Okay, here's what we will do: we have to guard every entrance of the hotel and the church and-" she stopped abruptly. "No!" she exclaimed, defeated. "I can't because I have to meet Emily and…" she rambled on in a high-pitched, ultrasonic voice of which Chandler couldn't make out any words.

He rushed over to her and put his hands on her shoulders, hoping it would calm her down. "You go and do whatever it is you bridesmaids have planned to do. Joey and I will take care of Rachel, okay?" he promised, trying to reassure her.

She hugged him briefly. "Thanks."

"Now go," he said, shoving her away. "Pretty up and stuff. I don't want to walk next to a monster down the aisle," he teased playfully to lighten the mood. Like she could ever look hideous.

She grinned back at him and grabbed one of her bags, before heading out the door.

Chandler plopped back down on the bed, again, and put his hands over his face.

This was gonna be a long day.

* * *

Rachel making a scene during the ceremony would have been less disastrous.

Everybody was now in search of the runaway bride.

Well, everybody but Chandler and her. And, of course, Rachel, the last person Emily wanted to be found by.

Chandler had suggested to escape the 'party' and go back to their room to watch a movie. So, after Monica had gotten rid of Rachel, they rushed back to their room.

"Finally," Chandler announced, relieved, as they reached their door. "I swear if Ross had said one more word about saying Rachel's name not meaning anything, I would have pushed him through the damn bathroom window."

Monica nodded, smiling, understanding it completely.

Opening the door, he let her in first. In the doorway she stopped immediately, causing him to bump into her. Shocked and surprised they were faced with Rachel, who sat on Chandler's bed eating the cookies and candy that they had saved for later. They really should have hidden it. Especially since Joey still had the key to their room. But, as Monica thought about it, he had probably given it to Rachel. How else could she be here?

"Oh my god, Rachel! Hi!" she greeted her best friend, a mixture of emotions in her voice. Not positive ones.

"Oh hello, Rachel," Chandler said, clearly not happy that she was here either. "What are you doing here?"

"Ross said my name. Okay? My name," Rachel said for the umpteenth time since he had actually said it, ignoring Chandler's question. "Ross said my name up there that obviously means that-" her ranting was cut short when the phone started to ring.

Something Monica was grateful for. She couldn't listen to the 'Ross and Rachel' saga any longer.

Before she could even set a step closer to the phone, Rachel picked it up.

"Hello," she answered. "Who is this?" she asked, frowning, after a long pause. More silence followed before she put the phone back. "That was weird," Rachel said, looking confused at her two friends, who still stood in the doorway.

"Wrong number?" Monica asked, intrigued.

"Well, that was what she claimed," she said slowly as her gaze shifted to Chandler, "but I swear that was Kathy…"

Monica felt anger rising within her at the mention of Kathy's name. The person who seemed so great in the beginning, but turned out to be a devilish woman.

And now she was trying to contact Chandler again? That couldn't be true, right?

She turned her head sideways to look at Chandler. The look on his face said enough.

"She was the person you were on the phone with last night?! She was your reason why you wouldn't sleep with me?!" she said angrily. In the corner of her eye, she saw Rachel giving her a questioning look. "Because you are dating her again?!"

"Well, yeah," he confessed softly, backing away slightly.

"How could you do that to yourself?! You do remember what happened the last time, don't you?!" she raised her voice, still not able to fully believe the truth that had just come out.

"Monica is right, Chandler," Rachel backed Monica up, the girls now standing next to each other. "She cheated on you! You can't just forgive her for what she had done!"

Chandler scoffed at Rachel. "You are the last person who is allowed to say that to me," he spat out, anger evident in his voice.

"And why's that?" Rachel raised an eyebrow, annoyed.

"Whether Ross and you were on a break or not, Ross did sleep with the girl from the copy place. But it seems like you have already forgiven him for that."

"I have so not forgiven him for that!" she said defensively.

Monica watched the heated scene in front of her. Chandler was barely mad, so that meant that this was serious.

"Then why did you come to London to tell him you love him?" he shot back, crossing his arms.

Rachel was speechless and looked away.

Monica had to admit that he did have a point. However, she was still mad at him.

"This is exactly why I hadn't told you!" he continued and pointed an accusing finger at them. "Because you wouldn't understand."

"Then explain…" Rachel gestured with her hand.

Chandler took a deep breath. "You and I both know that women don't tend to like me," he started, using a calmer voice, sitting down on the edge of his bed, looking at his folded hands in his lap, "so that's why I now think twice before I reject a woman. And I loved Kathy very much. I risked a lot for her, like my friendship with Joey," he shook his head, looking up at the girls, "my friendship with all of you. I just couldn't let that slip away. So, when she called, apologized and asked if I wanted to grab a cup of coffee, I said 'yes'."

Monica was surprised to find a smile on his face and hoped that he hadn't fallen in love with her again. The fact that he said 'loved' instead of 'love' gave her hope.

"I still don't think this is a good idea," she said carefully. She knew for sure that she would break his heart again after it had just healed. And that's what she wanted to prevent.

Apparently, she hadn't said it careful enough, as he didn't take her comment very well.

"Why? Because I didn't ask permission from all of you?" he said as he stood up. He was furious now. More than they had ever seen him. Angrier than when his apartment was robbed or when Ross kissed his mother.

"I'm a big boy, you know?" he continued, not giving the girls a chance to say something in return. "I can make my own decisions. And now if you'll excuse me," he said as he walked over to the door and opened it a bit. "I'm going for a walk. And I don't care if you think that is stupid at this hour or want to hold my hand when I cross the street, I'm going anyway," he said in one breath, with one foot already in the hallway. "Don't you dare to follow me," he said strictly, pointing a finger at them.

And before they could block his way, he had already slammed the door shut behind him.

The girls stood rooted to their spots, staring at the door.

"Can you believe it?" Rachel was the first one to speak. Monica shook her head. "I mean, my situation with Ross is totally different."

Monica hung her head. Her friend could be so self-absorbed at times.

"And you wanted to sleep with him?" she asked incredulously.

"I was drunk," she dismissed, not wanting to go into further detail of the night before since that wasn't important at the moment. Luckily, Rachel just nodded understandingly. "Come on, we have to find him," she said, tugging at Rachel's arm.

"But he didn't want that," Rachel replied, not following Monica, but sitting back down on one of the beds instead. "It's Chandler, sometimes he just needs to be alone for a while. He'll be back," she reassured her friend.

Monica was about to protest, but another phone call cut the conversation short. If it turned out to be Kathy again, she wanted to have a few words with her.

But it was Phoebe. And when Rachel began to sum up her history with Ross, she knew she had to get out of there.

She grabbed her coat. "Well, I'm going," she mumbled more than herself than anyone else.

No matter what he had said, she had to find him. Before he got lost in this unknown city. Which he most definitely would, since it was getting dark and he hadn't brought a map with him.

But mostly, she had to find him, so they could end this argument before it got worse. She didn't want and couldn't be in a fight with him. Not after how nice he had been to her these last 24 hours.

So, she walked out of the door, full of determination to find him.


	4. The One With Mr Desperate

**Chapter 4: The One With Mr. Desperate**

This was exactly why he hadn't told anyone yet. He just knew they were gonna react like that. Disapproving before he could explain the situation. And even after that, he knew they wouldn't understand.

Sure, he was aware that this wasn't the best decision he had ever made. And he was sure that he had handled the situation differently if she had called a month earlier when he still thought about how things had ended between them every day. When he still felt loving and hating feelings for her at the same time.

But things had changed. He had changed. He had finally been able to put it behind him and had moved on.

A couple of weeks ago, he had even been on a date with a girl he had met at the sleep clinic, who talked, well screamed, in her sleep. She had even stayed the night.

And even though it hadn't worked out, it had helped him to put his relationship with Kathy in the past. And now that he had turned the page to start a new chapter, everything that had happened seemed less bad. Causing those loving and hating feelings for Kathy to subside a bit.

Then she called, and for a second he wanted to scream at her for what she had done to him, but instead, he stayed, surprising himself, very calm.

Hearing her voice brought back a lot of memories, more good than bad. Her apology sounded so sincere and that's why he accepted her offer and they actually ended up having a great time.

He snapped out of his thoughts when he heard footsteps. He looked around but didn't see anyone.

"Chandler?" He heard a familiar voice call as the footsteps were getting louder. He had expected that Monica would ignore his plea not to follow him, but not Rachel, whose voice he heard.

He thought he had found a good hiding place after wandering through London for a while. A place where he could keep his criticizing friends at a distance. But he had no such luck.

Running away before Rachel found him was his next plan. But before he could make a move, he saw her appear behind the rows of chairs in the church where a few hours ago the catastrophic ceremony had taken place.

"There you are," she let out a sigh of relief as her eyes found his.

Acknowledging her presence he attempted to smile, but he knew he failed.

He sensed her coming closer but didn't see it as he rested his forehead back on his folded arms, which were resting on his, pulled to his chest, knees. In the corner of his eye, he saw her sitting down at his right side, against one of the few brick walls that were still standing at the front of the church.

"I expected to find you somewhere outside with a cigarette between your lips," Rachel started the conversation with an amusing hint in her tone.

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, before turning his head so his cheek was resting on his arms. "Sorry to disappoint you, but I didn't want to make this trip crappier by catching a cold from walking in the rain." He sat up a bit more, leaned his back against the wall and let his legs fall on the floor, wide apart. "But those cigarettes you've mentioned…" he said dreamily and smiled at her while he retrieved a pack from his pants pocket, "…form a fantastic picture."

Closing his eyes and leaning his head against the wall behind him, he took a drag from his lit cigarette. It had been a while since he had felt that heavenly smoke making its way toward his lungs.

He was surprised, but relieved, that Rachel hadn't ripped the cigarette from his hand yet. Maybe she had finally come to the conclusion that trying to make him stop was useless anyway.

"I can't believe you're smoking." And there it was. "Or that Ross that my name." And some more, causing him to groan inwardly.

Slowly he opened his eyes again and let out a puff of smoke. He watched in amusement as she waved the cloud away with a disgusted look on her face and on the verge of coughing.

What a baby.

"Want one?"

She eyed the offered cigarettes and for a split second Chandler thought that she was really considering it, but all too soon she shook her head vigorously. Too bad, it would have been nice if someone else in the group smoked.

"You just looked like you needed one," he shrugged. Damn, if he were in her situation he would have made one supermarket owner very happy by emptying the shelves.

Rachel's focus was still on the package. "Have you already smoked half of it?" she asked disbelievingly, pointing at the half-empty package.

Probably, if he had remembered them earlier, it would have been empty by now. "No, the missing ones are dissolved in the air of New York."

"You've seriously brought those with you?"

What was it with all the questions today? He felt like he was talking to a toddler. They also only used sentences that ended with a question mark.

"Did you really expect me to go to a wedding in a foreign country without bringing them? I mean, that just asks for a classic Chandler freak-out moment."

She rolled her eyes but remained quiet. Chandler closed his eyes once again as he finished his cigarette, blocking out the world going on around him. And made a silent wish that Rachel would be gone once he reopened his eyes.

"What are you thinking about?"

Before he could even check if his wish was granted, Rachel had already opened her mouth.

"That I should have hidden in Ross's honeymoon suite instead."

"Then you would have run into Monica since she went to check every hotel room."

"Just as the guests were promised in the brochure." He took a deep breath. "Okay, I should have gone to the airport to catch the first flight out of here."

"To fly back to Yemen?"

He opened his eyes to look at her triumphant smile, way too brightly for his irritated mood. Though her idea was very tempting at the moment. No one would follow him there, for sure.

"Speaking of Yemen-"

Chandler groaned loudly, interrupting her, as he slid down further against the wall. "Do we have to talk?"

"Absolutely," she nodded and continued before he could protest. "What I don't understand is why you didn't get back together with Janice, instead of flying to Yemen?" she asked, interested. "You were in love with her too."

Despite what some people said, especially Joey, Rachel was right. He was in love with her, but that was like one and a half year ago.

"Well?" she prompted.

Chandler blinked and refocused his attention on his friend. "Yeah, I did love her once. But," he started to explain, "when she wouldn't listen when I kept saying I had just gotten out of a serious relationship and wasn't ready for a new one, and she assumed we were back together, she lost every change she ever had with me."

"Wow," she responded, impressed. "I expected for the next time you'd run into Janice, you two would end up getting married at City Hall."

"The only way I'm getting into City Hall with Janice is when I give her happily away to another man, knowing she will never get into my way again," he said seriously, getting a smile from Rachel.

"And you could start your happily ever after with Kathy?" she asked carefully, biting her bottom lip.

He shrugged in response, not wanting to answer that question, nor knowing how to.

"I gotta ask," she asked another question, not giving Chandler a second to rest. "You are not back together, because you blame yourself for the break-up?"

That was another question he didn't like. "Of course not," he replied, trying to sound as convincing and casual as possible.

"You do?!" No, he shouldn't start a career in acting either.

Without permission, she grabbed his hand that was closest to her with both her hands. More to calm herself than him, he guessed.

"Honey, I meant what I said before. You claiming she slept with her co-star wasn't your smartest action-"

"So, you do think it was my fault?" he frowned, looking down at their hands. It was ridiculous how close and comfortable the six were with each other, without being in a relationship. Strangers who saw their group regularly must think they were swingers or were having orgies every week.

"That you had a fight, yes," she said, pulling Chandler back from his inappropriate thoughts. "That she slept with the other guy, absolutely not." She took one of her hands back to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear.

Meeting her eyes, he could see that she meant it. However, it did not take the guilt away. Not knowing how to respond, he simply nodded.

Suddenly, she stood up, still holding onto his hand. Sending a silent signal to him to get up too.

Letting her hand go, he set both his hands on the floor to help him to his feet.

"Come on," she waved her hand, already walking ahead of him. "We have to let Monica know that you're okay."

"Can't you just tell her yourself? So I can stay here. Alone," he whined, not moving.

Rachel turned back around. "She wants to talk to you too."

He groaned. He hid here so he could be alone. Not to talk. Especially not about feelings.

"Fine," he mumbled and reluctantly made his way over to an impatiently waiting Rachel. On his way, he searched in his pocket for the only thing that could lighten his mood at the moment.

"Do you have to do that?" she complained as Chandler lit another cigarette. "I thought we had agreed that you would never smoke again."

Before he could fully enjoy his first drag, he had to blow smoke out to answer Rachel.

"No, you've all agreed to that," he accused her and his other four friends, as they started walking. "I never did such thing," he paused for a second. "Besides we are not in New York. Here in London, those rules don't count as Joey mentioned earlier."

In response, Rachel puffed out some air, clearly irritated.

"Now, come on," he smiled, hooked his left arm with her right and increased the speed in which they were walking. "We don't want to keep Monica waiting." Better get this over with as soon as possible so they could all act normal around each other again, he thought. "Monica hates waiting."

* * *

With heavy eyelids screaming to be closed, Monica entered her apartment building with Chandler and Joey.

She wanted nothing more than to crawl under the sheets of her bed after she had barely had any sleep the previous two nights. Not to mention the jet lag that was going to hit any second now.

But as much as she longed for that long-awaited sleep since she still had to talk to Chandler.

Last night after her first unsuccessful search, she had finally been able to drag Rachel out of the room, so she could help her. Monica thought it would be better to let Rachel look outside around the hotel as that would minimize Rachel's chances of running into Ross. Monica herself would check the hotel again and the hotel rooms, if necessary.

And, of course, she had to run into Ross while checking the honeymoon suite. And being the good sister she is, she couldn't leave her brother alone when he asked her if she could stay. She couldn't tell him about Chandler either, because that would have stressed him even more. So, she just had to hope that Rachel had more luck, while she had to listen to her brother's relationship history.

She didn't hear about Rachel's successful search until the following morning, right before they had to leave for the airport.

Her next plan was to talk to Chandler on the plane. But that plan also went out of the window when Joey claimed her seat next to Chandler and decided to have a serious conversation with him.

Like it was planned.

And it wasn't like she could sleep on the plane as the rehearsed the things she wanted to say to Chandler over and over again.

Even now, while climbing the chairs her thoughts hadn't left the subject.

In front of her, Joey kept questioning his acting career and kept recalling his encounters with Felicity.

Judging by how he hadn't stopped talking since they'd gotten on the plane, Monica thought that Joey was probably the only one who had gotten some sleep the previous nights, making it clear for her that he was exaggerating about some stuff, and duration, that happened with him and his bridesmaid.

As Joey began to talk about when they had almost done it in the wedding church, Monica was glad that they had finally arrived at her apartment door. Saving her, and Chandler she guessed by his absent presence, from the details Joey was about to give.

Once in the apartment, they were immediately greeted by Phoebe, who seemed to have grown even more. Monica quickly pushed the slight jealousy away that overcame her. She had other things on her mind at the moment. After that was sorted out, she had enough time to think the family she so badly wanted to start.

"You ate meat!" Phoebe accused Joey, once they were done with the hugs. "You had a fight!" she turned her attention to Chandler and Monica, who both froze.

"No, we didn't," Chandler defended both of them.

"Really?" she asked, tilting her head to the side, not believing it.

"Really," Monica confirmed. It was better to keep this argument between the three of them. At least until they had made peace with one another.

"This pregnancy is throwing me all off," Phoebe moaned. Monica could only think that her friend had never been more right. "And making me fat."

Monica didn't pay much attention to the conversation Joey and Phoebe were having. It was something about the chick and the duck. She did notice when they left.

She looked sideways at Chandler, who had his eyes fixed on the ground as he ran a hand through his hair, making it look even more disheveled. He probably hadn't looked in a mirror since the preparation of the wedding.

Not that he looked hideous. In fact, he looked all kinds of cute. Handsome even, if she was being completely honest with herself.

Another thing she mentally added to the list of things she'd had never noticed about Chandler before. At least not consciously.

If felt kind of weird to check him out as if he were a stranger she passed by on the street.

"You want to talk now, huh?"

She snapped her gaze to his eyes, instead of staring at his hair. He didn't seem to have noticed.

To collect her thoughts, she broke eye contact and walked away from him. She stopped when she reached the chair furthest away from the door, turned back around and rested her hands on the chair in front of her.

"Yeah," she answered quietly, a bit nervous now. Another feeling she had never felt around him. Though, the only one she felt uncomfortable with. The other feelings were confusing, not making her uncomfortable.

He hung his head, let out a deep breath as he walked a few steps and eventually stopped to lean against the kitchen counter with his hands resting behind him on the counter.

"Can't we just say: what happened in London, stays in London," he pleaded with a smirk.

She felt a smile creeping up her face as she could feel the tension slipping away. Instantly, she felt more relaxed. "I think that rule only applies to Vegas."

"I was afraid you'd say that," he said, defeated, sliding down on the chair opposite of her, stretching his arms wide apart on the table.

She stared at his face again and noted that he looked as tired as she felt. Though sleeping seemed very tempting right now, she first needed her questions to be answered.

"Look," she started, pushing the chair in front of her back, so she could sit on it, "I know you don't want to talk about this and I know you've already talked this through with Rachel and I'll make sure I won't let her leave until she has told me everything-"

"Rachel and I talked more Janice than Kathy, I think," Chandler interrupted her.

"Well, you and Janice are always a fun topic to talk about," she joked slightly, hoping it would take the sad look off his face.

"It's good to know that my failed relationships are amusing to you," he said with a tight smile, shifting in his seat to sit more upright.

"Anyway," Monica continued, taking the smile as a sign that he knew she was only kidding, "I still think this is a stupid idea," she began and before he could defend himself again, she resumed, "but it seems like that is not going to stop you. And I promise I won't bring it up again if you promise me that you will take it slow?" she finished with a question mark, looking at him pleadingly while nervously fidgeting with her hands on the table.

He grabbed one of her hands from across the table and caressed the back of her hand with his thumb, using a gentle touch. "Mon," he said softly, causing her to switch her gaze from their joint hands to his eyes, "we've grabbed one cup of coffee and we've on one lunch date."

She closed her eyes for a second and let out a breath she had been holding while awaiting his reply. "Good," she whispered, squeezing his hand. "We just don't want to see you broken-hearted again."

"I know," he said, still using a soft tone. He took his hand back to run it through his hair, again. "And I appreciate your concern, it's just…"

"Yeah," Monica nodded and thought for a moment before asking the following question, not wanting to anger him. "Have you really forgiven her?"

He stood up again and paced back and forth behind the previously occupied chair. "I guess," he answered hesitantly. "I don't know," he whispered as he stood still, staring at the tabletop.

"Do you have trust in her again?"

He shrugged.

She stood up too, walked over to the couch to lean against the back and folded her arms across her chest. "Just promise me that you won't sleep with her until you've figured that out. Because you don't want it to get even more complicated, like with Richard and-"

"Mon," Chandler cut her off again and walked over to her to put his hands on her shoulders, "you do remember it's me we're talking about, right?" She nodded. "The guy who waited with having sex with his girlfriend, because he thought he would only be a disappointment after she'd been with his roommate." He moved over to stand at her left side, mirroring her position.

"And after, you know, you had taught me some stuff," he smiled, looking straight ahead while he rubbed his neck as if embarrassed, "I thought I was finally good. But then," he paused, taking a deep breath, "she slept with Nick," he said the other guy's name with obvious hatred. "I mean for her to sleep with somebody else must mean I am not so good after all," he sighed and turned his body a bit, to face her. "It will take ages before I've gathered enough strength to sleep with her again."

Monica resisted shaking her head as she remembered a very out of breath Kathy thanking her for teaching her boyfriend what to do to fulfill a woman's needs. Her reaction had to mean something, right?

But by now Monica was used to his insecurities.

"From what I've noticed, she seemed pretty satisfied," she said after a while, not feeling really comfortable talking about other people's sex lives. But she wanted to put her friend at ease.

He shrugged again, looking down at his feet, obviously not knowing how to respond or too tired to respond. So Monica decided to change the subject.

"Are we good again?" she asked nervously.

He shook his head. "Of course, silly," he grinned, pulling her into a hug, bringing Monica back to the storage room in London for a second. "Enough about me," he said, pushing himself away from her and pulling her out of her memory. "How are you?"

"Well, your secret has made me forget about all the other stuff that happened in London."

"That's good, I guess…" he said, tilting his head to the side as he shoved his hands in his pockets. "Just next time when you're drunk, sad, lonely and desperate, don't go looking for a stranger, or whoever, to dive under the covers with."

How did he know that? "I was not-"

He put his hand on her shoulder. "Yes, you were," he stated firmly. "I know that, believe me, because I'm Mr. Desperate. I have to live with all those feelings, and more, every day."

Embarrassed that he had figured her out, she ducked her head and retook her seat at the kitchen table. With her eyes closed, she set her elbows on the table and rested her face in the palms of her hands.

"Next time just come to me. I'm not busy with life-changing events anyway."

She heard him coming nearer to her again and she guessed he was kneeling on her left side as she felt a pair of hands being placed on her left upper leg.

"We know you haven't had a boyfriend for a while-"

She scoffed. That was a major understatement.

"But having a one-night stand just doesn't sound like you. Don't let other people's opinions get to you. Especially not your mom's."

She sighed, knowing he was right. "It's just hard, you know?"

"At least you would never say the wrong name."

"That was really stupid," Monica laughed, finally opening her eyes.

"And for the boyfriend front, maybe I can help," he offered, looking up at her from, indeed, his kneeling position on the ground. "I can keep an eye open for someone who is everything you look for in a boyfriend. You know, everything I am not," he joked. "I'm sure you have a list laying around here somewhere."

She let her hands fall on the table. "Maybe," she shrugged as a smile reappeared on her face.

"Or we could break into another hotel's kitchen?" he suggested, raising his eyebrows. He stood up to sit down on the chair closest to him.

"That was a lot of fun," she smiled. "Wait," she said suddenly as she remembered something. "Have we ever returned the trays?" In the chaos that was London, she had totally forgotten about that.

"I left those on the checkout counter," he responded casually.

"Of course," she chuckled. "Where else?" A comfortable silence followed, unlike the one when they had just arrived home. "Thanks for that night. I had a lot of fun," she said, wanting to thank him again.

"No problem. Anything for the beautiful woman who hit on me," he winked at her.

"I was very drunk," she pointed out, though she could remember most of what happened outside the men's room, "but I can't blame myself for doing so," she whispered, blushing, not believing she was actually going to reveal the next part. He raised his eyebrows in surprise and in expectation for an explanation. "The next day you were the most handsome man at the wedding," she admitted, avoiding eye contact as she felt her cheeks getting only redder.

"Handsome?" he repeated disbelievingly. "Wow, thanks. Nobody has ever said that to me. Thanks," he said again, shy. She was surprised he was getting all cocky about it.

"I'd better go and check if the chick and the duck are still alive. And if not, I have to stop Joey from hurting Phoebe," he said, patted her hand, that was on the table, and stood up.

She got up too. "Then I'll go unpack and get some sleep."

"You'd better do that the other way around," he said, making a counterclockwise circle with his hand, while he walked backward to the door.

"Nah," she shrugged, "then I won't be able to sleep."

"Right," he smiled adorably, one foot already in the hallway.

But then all of a sudden he came rushing back and grabbed her left wrist, surprising Monica. A few seconds later he let go again. "That's better," he said.

Monica checked her wrist and saw that the time was set back on her watch. "I could have-" she started to defend herself.

"Sure, Mon. Sweet dreams."

Before she could say more, he was out of the apartment.

At least that was one less thing to worry about, she thought as she made her way to her bedroom.


	5. The One With The Two Hairdressers

**Chapter 5: The One With The Two Hairdressers**

Climbing the stairs, Chandler contemplated his options for what to do today. He wasn't very aware of what was going on around him and barely noticed a man running down the stairs, who was mumbling something about roses.

Between the two apartments, he had to choose which door to open. In his own apartment, he could be alone, while everyone assumed he was at work. Or he could open the girls' door and get it over with.

After walking in circles in the hallway, he shook his head and opened a door. In the apartment, he was faced with the three girls. Apparently, Rachel had just gotten back from Greece, finally.

He was very aware of his sad demeanor as he walked further into the room and shut the door, though it seemed unnoticed by the girls as they kept their conversation going. He had no idea what they were talking about as he stayed in his own little world.

The sadness he felt really shouldn't surprise him anymore as he had been in this position enough times. Still, it came unexpected, especially this time.

"Maybe Chandler can do it," Phoebe said all of a sudden from her position on the sofa, getting Chandler's attention.

"Can do what?" he frowned.

"Be in control of Rachel's love life."

Yes, of course, because that explanation clarified the situation at hand. He looked over at Rachel and Monica, who were sitting at the kitchen table. Rachel was shaking her head slowly, so Phoebe wouldn't notice. Whereas Monica was holding herself back from saying something, sitting restlessly in her chair.

"That actually doesn't sound like such a bad idea," he wondered out loud after a few seconds.

"But I don't want you to," Rachel whined, not even trying to hide her disagreement.

"I'll do it!" Monica said quickly, raising her hand as if she were at school.

"That's better. Sorry Chandler," Rachel apologized, not even making eye contact with him as she did. "So Monica, you are now in control of my love life."

Her best friend had a small celebration with herself, while Chandler's head formed a very interesting image of Monica controlling Rachel's love life. Something shouldn't tell the girls about, though it brightened his mood for a few seconds.

"No, that's not what I meant," he waved his hand and shook his head to clear his mind, sitting down on the empty seat next to Rachel. "I meant someone who is in charge of my love life. Maybe then I would have a successful relationship," he muttered as he hung his head and looked down at the table, but he could feel three pairs of eyes on him.

"Chandler?" He looked over at Phoebe. "Who cut your hair?" That was not one of the questions he was expecting. Though it meant that Phoebe hadn't heard about his situation with Kathy yet, which was quite surprising since Rachel did know.

"A hairdresser," he shrugged, getting a bit anxious from the disapproving look on Phoebe's face. "I've just gotten back from it," he said, pointing with his thumb at the door behind him.

"Why?" she asked, raising her voice. "Don't you have your own personal hairdresser?" she tilted her head to the side and stared at him sternly, almost pointing at herself to make the answer clearer. And he was sure that if she wasn't pregnant, she would be standing in front of him right now, intimidating him.

"I, uh," he stuttered, scratching behind his ear. How was he gonna get himself out of this?

"Well?! Am I not good enough?"

"No, it's just, uh," he paused and squeezed his eyes shut, searching his brain for a plausible answer, before reopening his eyes, "I didn't want to let my other personal hairdresser down." That was at least partly true since that was the original plan before things had changed as usual. Eventually, he just went to a hairdresser's.

Normally, he would let Phoebe do it. But there was no way he was gonna let a pregnant Phoebe, hormones and mood swings included, anywhere near his head with scissors.

Imagine the bloodbath.

"Kathy?" Rachel guessed before Phoebe could throw angry words at him.

"Rachel, don't be so silly," Phoebe laughed. "Why would he get his ex-girlfriend to cut his hair?"

Chandler turned his attention to the two girls sitting with him at the table. He didn't feel like explaining the situation to her. She would just have to talk to Rachel and Monica. "She offered to do that yesterday, but," he sighed, not really understanding the sting he felt in his chest. They had only been on a few dates. "Right before I arrived, she had gotten a job offer in LA. A part in a new TV show or something," he dismissed, looking down at his hands on the table surface.

He felt Rachel's hand rubbing his arm, while Monica had gotten up and now stood behind him, massaging his shoulders. Both trying to comfort him,

"You can't get back together with her!" Phoebe chastised him.

"Phoebe," Chandler began, he looked back at her, "it's okay. We're not back together. She took the job."

"Are you really okay?" Monica asked, concerned, when Phoebe didn't say anything more.

"Yeah," Chandler replied, glancing up to meet her gaze. "We were never really back together. We've been on, like, five dates. I'm okay," he repeated, partly honest. "It's probably better this way. Trusting and forgiving was harder than it seemed." That part was true.

Monica and Rachel nodded, both obviously relieved.

"So, you broke up?" Phoebe asked for confirmation and Chandler nodded. "And since you're not in your sweatpants, it means you're ready for phase two and we get to go to a strip club!" she said, suddenly very excited. "And get a breakfast buffet!" she added, her eyes shining. She had weird pregnancy cravings.

"You've just eaten breakfast," Monica pointed out, slightly irritated.

"I know I've had," she rolled her eyes, "The triplets haven't."

"Anyway," Chandler said when a silence followed, standing up, "there's no way I'm getting to a strip club with you again," he waved his finger back and forth between the three girls.

"What about Joey? After your first break-up with Kathy you promised him you would take him to a strip club," Phoebe recalled.

"Joey doesn't need to know about this. And neither does Ross," he warned. "A day of watching Baywatch would be enough for this break-up," he said expertly, hoping it would. "Unless…"

"What?" Monica asked.

"You girls want to strip for me?" he asked jokingly, already knowing the answer.

"No!" came the resolute answer from three directions at once.

He held up his hands. "Can't blame a guy for trying," he said, walking over to the door. "You know where to find me if you change your mind," he winked as he stood in the door opening, not receiving positive reactions. "Don't interrupt me for anything else. Bye," he said, walking out of the door.

Once in his own apartment, he closed his eyes and leaned his head against the door. Hoping that, indeed, this break-up wouldn't disrupt his life for long.

* * *

Monica wandered through the hospital with mixed feelings. Sure, she was so proud of Phoebe. Giving birth wasn't known as an easy task. Not to mention that Phoebe had to do it three times in just a few minutes.

They were all so beautiful. All three of them. And she couldn't be happier for Frank Jr. and Alice.

The next few weeks were gonna be hard for Phoebe, but they were all gonna help her through this hard time and eventually she would be fine and be the best aunt those kids could wish for.

Just like the time when Ben was born, there was also a downside for Monica at watching people she knew becoming parents: the reminder she wasn't even close to that. What was she glad that her mother wasn't here right now.

Her last date, if you could even call it that, was with Timothy Burke. Something she was rather not remembered by. And her last real date had been with Chip Matthews, the boy everyone wanted back in High School.

Monica had always looked forward to being in a loving, mature and serious relationship that would eventually turn into a married life with children. And that picture could not be formed with someone who was still stuck in his puberty. Or with sons of ex-lovers.

But, who knows, maybe the nurse Rachel had set her up with, would be a good match. Although she wasn't really looking forward to the double date.

As much as she loved Rachel and really wanted to help her get over Ross, she knew that her friend would draw the attention of both guys with using her first date tricks. And that would leave Monica alone and bored.

Maybe she should just cancel the date or ask the guy if they could do it another time. Just the two of them. Rachel was right about him being cute, so it was definitely worth a try.

As she turned another corner, she did a double take when she saw the last person she'd expected looking through the window at the newborns. He had his back to her as he leaned with his side against the glass.

Not wanting to disturb him, and so she could spy on him, she silently walked closer to him.

"Do you think there exists a woman on this planet who would want one of these with me?"

She stopped in her tracks and looked at him, but he was still looking the other way. "How did you-" she started, confused.

"The miracle of reflection in glass."

"Ah," she nodded.

"So, do you?" he asked, turning his head to face her.

"Do I what?" she frowned.

Chandler sighed. "Think there is a woman somewhere in this world who would want to start a family with me?"

That only deepened her frown. He had never asked anything like that before. He freaked out just thinking about the future.

She was the one who bothered everyone with that sort of questions.

"Since when do you want kids?"

"I just figured that once I'd found the right woman, who will take things slowly with me and will take me for who I am, then maybe," he said shyly, ducking his head.

She moved closer to him. "I had no idea." And that was the truth. It was well-known that he didn't want to end up alone, as he was afraid would happen the time that Mr. Heckles died. And therefore was looking for a girlfriend and not for one-night stands, like his roommate. But that he was thinking about future, grown-up things was completely new.

"I've never told you," he shrugged, "so you couldn't have known."

Monica studied his face and noticed a serious and thoughtful look there, making it clear that something was bothering him. "Are you afraid that she doesn't exist?" she asked carefully.

"It's kinda hard to keep having faith in it when all the women you have ever fallen for, cheat on you," he said, hurt, still avoiding eye contact as he looked back at the infants.

Monica took another step and reached a hand out to rub his arm. She didn't know what if felt like to be cheated on, but she did know what a broken heart felt like, and that was already a horrible feeling. She couldn't imagine what he had gone through and hoped she would never have to find out, but most of all she hoped he would never have to experience that again.

"Those women didn't deserve you," she said honestly. "And I am sure your woman is out there."

She saw him nod, telling her that he appreciated it, but that he wasn't convinced. He just needed some time to believe in dating again.

Following his gaze, which was still fixed on the babies, she couldn't help but smile at the tiny persons, while she felt the usual warming feelings in her stomach. If just one of those were her.

"You know your happy ending is just waiting around the corner, right?"

She scoffed. "How do you know that?"

He put his hand on her shoulder. "Because I can't imagine someone as wonderful and beautiful as you not getting everything her heart desires," he said softly.

Looking up at him, she met his eyes that were already looking down at her. In response, she smiled gratefully at him. In between all his jokes he could be so sweet. And every time she was on the receiving end of it, he claimed a bigger part of her heart.

She moved away from him to also lean against the window, opposite of him, mirroring his position. "Then how come when you think I am so wonderful and stuff, you haven't asked me out yet?" she teased, trying to lighten the mood.

"I have," he frowned.

"When?"

"In Montauk. Multiple times, actually."

Back then she thought he was joking, but later she had been having doubts about that. And now those doubts grew even bigger.

"I made my pass last year," he continued, oblivious to Monica's discomfort, "so, now it's your turn," he shrugged, smiling slightly. "And drunken passes, like in London, don't count," he pointed out. "But I should warn you that if by some miracle, you are still single on your fortieth birthday, I will propose to you."

"What?" she asked, shocked, her eyes wide open. This conversation had taken some weird turn.

"A year before you turn forty, I will turn into your dream man. Although," he massaged his chin with his forefinger and thumb, "I don't think it's possible to turn the color of my eyes or something like that, and I'd rather not want to. Is that okay?" he tilted his head to the side.

"Sure?" she frowned, no idea where he was going with this.

"Good," he responded, relieved, before he continued. "But as I said, I will turn into your dream man, so you have no choice but to fall in love with me. Then at midnight on your birthday, I will enter your bedroom and will propose to you. And after you said, of course, 'yes', we will dive under the covers and make that baby," he summed up casually and quite confidently as if he had planned it for some time.

Monica shook her head, grinning. "You do know that I have to be ovulating to conceive a baby?"

"Yeah, I know that," he rolled his eyes and thought for a moment. "So then we will just have to amazing sex to celebrate our engagement and your birthday," he shrugged.

"You are crazy," she laughed, trying not to blush, but that was not something she could control.

"I think we have established that before."

"Besides, you are just saying that because you've just broken up with Kathy."

He sighed. "First, in the past week, you've asked me frequently if I was okay. And every time I said I was. Which means I am okay and have moved on," he said.

Monica had to admit that he was right. After his Baywatch marathon last week, he had been functionating normally again, without the pain and hurt he usually carried with him after a break-up. Though, she could not help but be afraid that he would break down about it later.

"Second," he continued, "I think I have suggested this before, only using slightly different words. But since you're not getting all defensive like the last time, I think I have scored some good points," he smiled proudly.

"But what I you get married before I do?" she asked, not wanting to continue on talking about things that had happened in the past.

"Yeah," he scoffed, "like that would ever happen. There is a reason why you all think I am the last one to get married."

That was before they saw him being in a long and serious relationship, with first Janice later Kathy.

"But what if-"

"No more 'what if's'," Chandler cut her off. "Let's see how Phoebe is doing," he suggested and Monica nodded as they started walking. "The only thing you have to worry about is saying 'yes'. I, on the other hand, have to buy an engagement ring, write a speech, win you over…" he paused and stopped walking as he put his hands over his face. "Oh my god! What have I gotten myself into?!"

Monica sighed and grabbed his hand to drag him along with her.

Some things would never change.

* * *

"So, Chandler," Rachel began from the other end of the couch, causing him to look up from his newspaper, "do you agree that it is stupid that Monica won't go on a second date with Dan, the cute nurse?"

"Well, I think that being a nurse is kind of girly," he joked, not wanting to talk about Monica's failed date. He had already heard everything about it right after she had gotten back from the date last week.

"Like you have a manly job," Rachel replied, annoyed.

"My job might be boring, but it's certainly not girly," he shot back and looked back at his newspaper when she looked away.

"Rach, I've already told you," Monica said, slightly irritated, from her position at the small table at Chandler's right, "there wasn't a click. Besides, he kept talking to you on our double date."

"But it has been so long since you've had a boyfriend."

"That I agree on," Chandler backed Rachel up as he sat more upright and put his newspaper aside. "And I have tried to help, but she won't show me her list of how her perfect boyfriend should look and should be like."

"We absolutely need to see that list. That's such a great idea!" she said, pressing her hands together with a single clap.

Chandler would have never thought that Rachel could be so excited about a list. Especially not after the one that was made about her.

"I am not going to show you the list," she said strictly to the two people on the couch. "It's too embarrassing," she added softly, picking up the newspaper Chandler had just put away, obviously wanting to end the conversation topic.

Before Chandler, and Rachel he assumed as she had moved closer to both him and Monica, could say anything in return, they were interrupted by Ross entering the coffeehouse.

He sat down in the green chair and began explaining his current situation with Emily. How she was willing to work on the relationship in London.

Of course, Monica, Rachel and himself didn't have a manual for what to do in this kind of situation, so they weren't very helpful either.

While Ross was contemplating if he should ask Carol, Susan, and Ben to move to London with him, a very excited Joey and Phoebe walked into Central Perk.

"Guess what?" Joey asked, jumping up and down from excitement.

"You've impregnated a girl and now you're getting married," Chandler said dryly, referring to the tux he had been wearing since early this morning.

Joey's eyes stood instantly wide as horror took over his features. "What?!" he squealed. "Who called?"

"Nobody called, Joe," Rachel reassured him and Joey relaxed immediately. "What Chandler meant was: why are you already wearing your tux? Your telethon thing doesn't start for another two hours, right?"

"I know," he nodded, "but this tux attracts a lot of babes," he said, very pleased. "Look at all the phone numbers I got from just walking to the travel agency and back," he said proudly, showing the crumbled pieces of paper.

"That's funny since that never happens to me. And I wear a suit five days per week," he complained, but his comment seemed to stay unnoticed and nobody commented on it.

"Wait," Monica frowned. "Why were you at the travel agency?"

All eyes turned to Joey and Phoebe, who were standing behind the couch.

"Because we're going to Atlantic City, baby!" Phoebe cheered. "You promised me a vacation, so Joey and I got us one." Both Joey and Phoebe smiled very brightly as the waited for a response.

They had just gotten back from London, but Chandler wasn't going to pass on a vacation. Monica and Rachel seemed to agree as they all three responded joyfully.

"I don't know," Ross responded, kind of sad.

"Come on, Ross," Monica said, trying to win her brother over. "This is the perfect opportunity for you to clear your mind and it gives you time to make the right decision."

"Yeah, maybe you're right," he nodded and stood up. "I'll call Emily."

"But that's not even the best part," Joey said, still very jumpy, which scared Chandler for the outcome.

"We're going camping!" Phoebe exclaimed, ending the mystery.

"Oh! Then maybe I can bring my old tent. I'm sure dad's still got it stored somewhere in the garage," Ross replied, suddenly very excited, before heading to the telephone in the coffeehouse.

Ross's enthusiasm wasn't shared by the other three.

"You mean, where we have to share toilets and showers with complete strangers?" Monica scrunched up her face. "Where there is no hygiene?"

"Doesn't that sound amazing?" Joey replied, rubbing his hands, clearly looking forward to it.

"Can't we just go to a five-star hotel with a lot of luxuries," Rachel suggested pleadingly.

Chandler nodded in agreement. He had some bad memories when it came to camping. Like when he went camping when he was in the Scouts and his dad went too, as a helping parent. But instead of helping his dad embarrassed him a lot. Not to mention that his dad slept in the same tent as the Scout leader.

"Nuh-uh," Phoebe shook her head. "You all went to London, I get to choose now. Besides, we've already booked."

"Oh," Joey said, reaching into his pants pocket, "here's your credit card back."

"Thanks," Chandler muttered, taking his credit card back. Not remembering lending it out.

As everyone started asking Joey and Phoebe about the details, Chandler stood up. "In that case, I'd better get to work, so I can work ahead to actually be able to take even more days off. And to earn my money back." Not to mention all those camping equipment that needed to be bought, Chandler realized as he said goodbye and walked out of the coffeehouse.

* * *

A/N: A little warning for the following chapters: I've never been to Atlantic City, so I can guarantee you that descriptions will probably be very wrong from time to time.


	6. The One With The Arrival

**Chapter 6: The One With The Arrival**

Behind them, the houses were turning into dots on the horizon, while the many skyscrapers became toothpicks, as they drove further and further away from their hometown.

Quietness was a rare occurrence in their group. There was always someone who had something to say. And now was no different. Everyone seemed to be talking at once, not letting anybody finish a sentence or even listening to what another had to say.

But what else could be expected from sitting in such close quarters?

Since Phoebe's cab wouldn't be able to transport the six of them plus their luggage and the tents, Joey had asked his parents if he could borrow their van. And, of course, his parents had agreed.

The van consisted of three seats in the front, three in the back and behind that a lot of storage room.

Thanks to Mr. and Mrs. Tribbiani and their need to reproduce themselves multiple times.

Monica glanced to her left, where Chandler sat behind the steering wheel, obviously trying to keep calm and concentrated with Ross breathing down his neck as Ross gave him directions. Directions Chandler didn't listen to.

In the middle of the backseat sat Rachel. Monica had somehow expected Rachel to be all over Ross, but since they'd gotten in the car Rachel had been talking to Phoebe only, who vacated the last seat on the backseat. They were talking about Danny and not even in the 'trying to make Ross jealous' way.

On Monica's right side sat Joey, the two of them sharing the double seat in the front.

Up until a few minutes ago, Joey was still driving. He was determined to drive the whole way down there since the van belonged to his family. But they weren't even out of the city before he grew tired and bored and thus let Chandler drive the vehicle.

Though the drive was much safer now, Monica couldn't help but wish that Chandler was still beside her. Or that she was in the driver's seat herself.

Sitting that close to each other just felt more comfortable with Chandler. And she and Chandler shared the seat equally, whereas Joey didn't really care about the imaginary line in the middle of the stool. Though, he had offered her to sit on his lap.

Yeah, like she was ever gonna do that.

Monica's part of the seat only got smaller when Joey leaned over her side to take a closer look at the map he had laid out on the dashboard. Monica swore she had never seen him frowning that hard as he tried to understand the map, which was quite reasonable since he was looking at the west coast…

She glanced back at Chandler, who seemed to be seconds away from hitting his head repeatedly on the horn of the steering wheel as he tried not to listen to the directions both Ross and Joey were giving.

"Can't you slow down a bit?" Ross pleaded anxiously. "I wouldn't hurt to drive under the speed limit, you know?" It was a good thing Ross wasn't driving. Then they'd probably still be in front of Central Perk, rechecking if all the mirrors were at the right angles.

She watched as Chandler sucked in his upper lip, before answering. "Ross, am I driving a truck?"

"No," he replied softly.

"Then am I driving a tractor or riding a bicycle?"

"No."

"Exactly. And that's why I keep driving at the maximum speed," Chandler said, smiling, still keeping his eyes on the road. "Now, sit back against the backseat, like you've been taught."

That sure did make Ross shut up, especially when everybody started laughing. Eventually, he did lean back and chose to look out of the window.

"I think this map is broken," Joey complained as he attempted to fold the map. "The roads just don't make any sense."

"Maybe you've got the wrong country," Chandler suggested.

"Maybe," Joey shrugged as he threw the barely folded piece of paper at their feet. "I should have gotten one like the one I bought in London."

Monica couldn't resist herself and picked the map up, to fold it correctly. It was one thing not being able to read a map, but not being able to fold it? That was just ridiculous.

"Oh, no no no," Phoebe quickly interrupted, before Chandler could voice out his feelings about that particular map. "No more talking about London," she warned her friends and everyone silently agreed, not wanting to upset Phoebe.

She had been really good and brave ever since she had given birth, showing how strong she was. And she really was.

Nobody wanted to let her down and they'd all been very active in helping to make this trip happen.

And ever since Monica had put herself in the organizing committee, she had been looking forward to the vacation more every day.

Making sure they had everything they would need and not more. Which meant not more than one sports bag with clothing for a person, much to Rachel's constant disliking.

Chandler had said that he didn't mind paying for the location as long as the rest of the costs were divided fairly. Very generous of him, but that wasn't anything new actually, considering how he took care of Joey.

Luckily, they didn't have to buy a lot of extras as they were able to collect some things here and there.

Ross's old tent was, of course, still stored at their parents' house. And upon hearing about their plans to go camping had led their neighbor Danny to lend his tent out to the group.

In the end, they only had to buy a cooling system, a small cooking stove and one more tent, concerning the big stuff.

Luxuries would be unnecessary since this was probably going to be a one-time thing anyway.

Though, everyone seemed to have gotten more excited as they got nearer to the day of departure.

* * *

It had taken them close to three hours, breaks included, to get to their home for the following week.

The camping Joey and Phoebe had found, was a few miles north of the actual city. They'd spent their whole adult lives in the city, so it would be logical to not spend their vacation in a city.

They were stranded in a wooded area, close to the sea, far away from the city noises and all the stress. No suited businessmen, the only costumes would be the bunny suits of the always-so-happy-and-not-ashamed animation team.

The only stress that could be found here was gonna be from parents who couldn't find their kids and the stress (and irritation) that setting up a camp would bring along.

For that last kind of stress, you wouldn't have to look far as the group of friends were attempting to set up their own camp.

They were placed on a field for six families/groups. The field was a sort of a lane with three camping spots on either side with a lot of spare space in the middle, so the door of your tent wasn't connected with, say, the entrance of your opposite neighbor's caravan.

Their spot was one of the middle ones and while they would be spending their mornings in the shadow, they would have 'evening sun'. And that was probably for the best, Chandler thought since he wasn't planning on getting up early for an entire week.

This week would consist of only Sundays.

In the middle of their camping spot, the girls were busy setting up the big tent with sleeping space for four persons. The tent that they had lent from Danny. Well, actually Monica was doing most of the work, while she accused the other two of doing everything wrong.

On the right side of their part of the field, Ross was busy setting up his childhood tent, without the instructions which he didn't have anymore. But according to him, that wasn't going to be a problem.

Chandler was also a one-man team as he built the tunnel tent for him and Joey on the other side of the big tent. Joey was looking for something to eat in the bags, claiming that he had gotten hungry from getting everything out of the van.

Though Chandler was not very fond of having to do this by himself, the usage of colors and the easy structure of the tent made the task a lot easier and resulted in him being the first one to have finished the outside of the tent. Now, only the, thankfully two, one-person sleeping compartments needed to be placed in the tent. Their tent wasn't very high, but that was okay since it was only meant to be slept in, something he was sure he would have to remind Joey off constantly.

With it being the middle of the day and the sun being high in the sky, it was really hot. Especially if you had to crawl into the tent to put the sleeping compartments in, which had their lengths next to each other. Not to mention redoing it, when he had put the openings at the back.

It was a good thing that nobody had seen that stupid mistake. He wouldn't hear the end of it until… well, his next stupid action.

After that was done, Chandler looked quite proudly at what he had accomplished. Apparently, he had remembered more from the Scouts than he thought. And if it hadn't been for the sweat dripping out of every pore of his body, he would be doing his happy dance right now. Maybe later, he could do it in front of everybody. Of course, the air mattresses and all the other needed to be placed in the tent, but that could wait. First, he needed something to drink.

While taking a large gulp from his bottled water, he watched as Ross didn't seem to have gotten any further than laying all the tent's contents out of the bag and on the floor, literally standing with his hands in his hair.

Meanwhile, Monica had scared her two friends away and instructed them to pump up the mattresses, which they were doing at the moment. Granted, not very active and switching places every minute.

But he couldn't really blame them. They had plenty of time, the afternoon had just started.

Risking his own life he walked over to Monica, who seemed to be struggling with her tent, which was too high for her to be handling on her own. Not that she would ever admit that.

"Here," he offered her the half-full bottle of water.

She looked up for only a split second with narrowed eyes, before she resuming her previous task. "I first need to complete this, before I get something to drink," she said, full of determination.

And to make sure that she was done before the other Geller, Chandler finished in his head. So far, Monica was in lead, with having the tent poles in the right places.

The girls' tent was a tunnel tent, just like Joey and Chandler's, only much bigger. It consisted of two two-person bedrooms in the back and in front of that was a 2 by 4 meter area, practical for storage or to be stuck in on a rainy day. The big tent also had a sewn-in groundsheet, so everything inside would be kept dry. And in front of the tent was a small covered outside area, where you could sit in the shadows, out of the wind, or whatever.

"Suit yourself," Chandler replied as he watched her attempt to hold the tent up while unfolding it like a harmonica. "Need any help," he offered, already knowing the answer, but it couldn't hurt to be polite once in a while.

"No!" she answered harshly, but as she said it, everything fell to the ground.

She groaned in frustration, before starting all over again. He really wanted to help, for some unknown reason. Maybe to get back at Ross? Man, was he annoying in the car.

Chandler moved to what was going to be the entrance of the tent and set one step into it, further wasn't possible.

"What are you doing?" And as he'd already suspected, she stood in front of him in no time, hands on her hips. "I can do this by myself."

"I just wanted to stand in the shadows," he explained lamely, "so my water won't boil. Or me, myself."

She eyed him doubtfully, tilting her head to one side as he tried to keep a straight face. Not an easy task. "Fine," she relented, but she did take a step closer to him to poke a finger in his chest, "but don't you dare-"

"Just thinking about the consequences makes me want to run back home." Just the power in that tiny finger of her was scary.

"Good," she said, grinning slightly of victory and walked away again.

Still, he held onto the front as unseeingly as possible, while Monica adjusted the tent. He listened very carefully as she pinned some of the main strings to the ground, using tent pegs.

After a few moments, he heard her coming nearer again and risked the chance of letting go and luckily, the front fell back only a little. He quickly unscrewed the lid of the bottle and drank some of the liquid, just in time before Monica reappeared and fastened the strings of the front of the tent, so at least the tent wouldn't fall down anymore.

That is, as long as tornados stayed away from them.

"Never underestimate the strengths of a Geller," she said proudly, now grabbing the bottle he was holding.

"I never underestimated you," he shook his head, stepping outside again. "The other one…" he nudged his head in Ross's direction, who had now gotten hold up the duct tape.

She chuckled as she wiped the mouthpiece of the bottle clean with her shirt. "That's another story," she finished, before taking a few gulps of water. The fine lines around her mouth still apparent.

Who was he kidding? It had nothing to do with annoying Ross. Only with making her smile.

"Now, get out of my way, Bing," she shooed him away and handed him the almost empty bottle back.

"Yes, ma'am."

Chandler walked over to Joey and sat down on one of those small foldable chairs, without a backrest. Comfortable was something different.

Looking around, he noticed that they were still the only ones on the field, but that was probably for the best, so they didn't feel like they were being watched and, most definitely, laughed at.

However, Chandler could not wait for other campers to arrive and to watch how families and couples sat in each other's hair while setting up their camp.

For now, he could enjoy 'The Geller Show', which was definitely amusing, especially when they started bickering at each other.

* * *

By the time they were done, the evening had already started, much to everyone's surprise. And thus Joey's constant pleading for food wasn't that inappropriate anymore.

And since Monica, let alone the others, didn't feel like cooking, they had picked up some pizzas at the camping's snack bar. They tasted surprisingly good, not like the ones back home, but good anyway. But after all the hard work, probably everything would have been good.

After that, they'd had decided to visit the beach, because what was the purpose of camping near the sea without visiting it on the first day? The temperature was still nice even though the sky had turned cloudy.

Form the camping it was only a fifteen-minute walk to the beach. The majority of the path was through the woods, which was logical since their camping was like in the middle of the forest. It all made you feel more excluded from the rest of the world and it made you realize that the chirping of the birds, the wind blowing through the trees and the crashing of the waves, were the sounds of nature. And not the screeching of car wheels.

These sounds of nature were a lot more peaceful.

As they passed the last trees, the horizon came into view between the endless ocean and the orange-turned clouds in front of them. So far away, but seeable nonetheless.

Once they were passed the bicycle racks and the beach pavilion, Monica quickly removed her sandals and let out a satisfied sigh when she felt the cool sand slip between her toes.

Joey and Phoebe followed her lead and soon hurried, shoes in hand, toward the awaiting sea.

And if Monica didn't have to support Rachel, who reluctantly had to remove her shoes or they would get ruined, she would be running now too, as if the sea would disappear anytime soon.

"Couldn't you have worn something a bit more practical?" Monica asked, slightly irritated as she watched Rachel unclasp yet another buckle.

"No, these are my most practical."

"Well, next time, just go barefoot," she commented as she let her friend go, Rachel remained silent except for the puff she let out. "Guys?" Monica questioned, once they had caught up with Chandler and Ross. "Why haven't you taken off your shoes yet?" she pointed at the sports shoes plus the big white socks both of them were wearing.

"Just to put them back on a minute later?" Ross replied. "No, thanks," he scoffed.

"Fine, your choice. But then you won't be able to go in the water either."

"You mean that I will miss out on putting my sandy and wet feet back into my socks and shoes? That's horrible," he said, feigning disappointment, quite dramatically.

Monica groaned, holding herself back from getting into a discussion with her brother. It was vacation, so no fights. Instead, she focused her attention on the person on the other side of Ross. "What's your excuse?"

"I have swimmers eczema," Chandler stated matter-of-factly, but Monica didn't buy at and kept staring at him until he would give his real explanation. "I'm just lazy," he shrugged.

She just shook her head. How lazy could one person get?

"At least I'm wearing shorts, so I can show off these milk bottles," he continued, lifting his legs up as they kept walking, like a soldier.

Those legs were, indeed, very white. But what else could be expected from someone who worked in an office and therefore had to wear long pants all the time?

But it was better than Ross, who still had his long pants on, to prevent himself from getting tick bites. But that wasn't anything new for Monica. She knew her brother and she had spent many vacations with him. And she had seen pictures of him at computer camp. Monica was surprised her brother hadn't tucked his pants in his socks yet, actually.

"You coming, Rach?" Monica asked impatiently, really wanting to join her two friends who were already up until their ankles in the water.

"Nah," she shrugged, "I'm gonna stay here." She grabbed a towel from the bag Ross was carrying and laid it out on the sand. "Would you join me, Ross?"

Monica rolled her eyes at her friend's not-so-subtle question. Danny seemed to be forgotten already. Or the nurse from the hospital, for that matter.

After Rachel had revealed her feeling to Ross, she had seemed so determined to get over him. She had gone on some dates with other guys and it looked like it was working. But now that the other guys weren't around, her feelings toward Ross didn't seem to be gone entirely.

Ross hesitated for a second but eventually sat down next to Rachel.

"Thanks for the offer," Chandler said dryly, after being ignored, "but it looks like you've taken up all the room on the towel. Unless you would like to sit on my lap, Rach?"

Monica watched as Rachel put on a disagreeing face. "I can sit on Ross's lap?" That alarmed Ross as he backed away a little, obviously not comfortable with Rachel's flirting while still being married to Emily.

"Yeah," Chandler scoffed, "so I can be the third wheel. Didn't think so."

"Come on, Chandler," Monica cut in, taking his arm to pull him away and steer him in the direction of the water.

"Okay," he relented, walking alongside her, "I guess I can stay at a safe distance from the water. Keep an eye on the three of you… and the jellyfish."

"That is not funny," she narrowed her eyes at him. That stupid beach trip. She didn't want to be reminded of that right now. Or any other time.

He held up his hands and stepped away from her a little.

Monica smiled upon seeing Chandler's somewhat scared expression, before she set down her sandals next to where Joey and Phoebe had let them and walked further, leaving Chandler behind on the dry sand.

With every step she took, the ground under her got more solid, but also wetter. She carefully stepped over the rows of shellfish, not wanting to get cut, before she reached the shallow water. Sure, it was a bit cold, but something as small as that wasn't going to hold her back. She did keep a safe distance from Joey and Phoebe who were playfully splashing water at each other. She didn't feel like getting an outfit ruined on the first day.

"You do know that lots of people have peed in that ocean?"

She turned around to look over at Chandler, who was still standing on the same spot where she'd left him, hands shoved into his pockets, grin planted on his face.

Of course, she knew that. She had swum in the sea before. Besides, she had promised herself to loosen up a little, because her normal self and camping wouldn't be able to go hand in hand, at all.

Before she could respond though, Chandler screamed a bit too girly as now the front of his shirt was supported by wet spots.

"What the hell?!" he spat out, turning toward the laughing Joey and Phoebe, not even to try to hide that they were the guilty ones. "Can't you see that I'm wearing my clothes and I still have my shoes on? And what if I was carrying a camera with me?"

"It is forbidden to wear shoes so close near the water," Joey pointed out.

"Oh, it's a law? Then I must have skipped the day they taught us that at law school."

"You went to law school?"

Lawyer Chandler Bing. No, that was something Monica couldn't imagine at all. That job asked too much seriousness from Chandler.

"Chandler is right, it's not a law," Phoebe commented knowingly.

They all stared incredulously at Phoebe for a moment, before Joey decided to splash even more water on his best friend, resulting Chandler to quickly take his shoes and socks off, not that that was really helpful anymore anyway, and to run into the water to take his revenge on Joey.

After some more water throwing, they both landed in the low water, now completely soaked and laughing uncontrollably, but that was inevitable with those two.

Phoebe had come to stand beside her and they both watched in amusement how Joey chased Chandler on the shore in the direction of their only dry friends. Well, up until that moment.

Ross and Rachel stood up and Rachel could step aside just in time, before Chandler and Joey teamed up to give Ross a sandwich-hug, much to his annoyance.

Monica and Phoebe couldn't stop laughing at the scene happening in front of them: Rachel trying to wipe all the water and sand off of her, a wet Ross standing helplessly with his arms wide, while the other two boys had taken off again, running and chasing after one another like two kids, like two brothers.

"If three soaked boys don't beat the hell out of the points of your first day in London, then what does?" Phoebe wondered, having asked the group multiple times already which trip was better up until that certain point. So much for not wanting people to talk about London.

Phoebe even now had her scorebook in her hands. She must have learned something from living with Monica after all, Monica thought proudly.

"It absolutely does," Monica confirmed honestly. So far, this trip had been more fun, if you compared the first days. She doubted if the fun she had with Chandler running through the hotel and cooking in its kitchen would get surpassed, but it was a good start.


	7. The One With The Swingers

**Chapter 7: The One With The Swingers**

His bed was one of his favorite places. So soft, warm and peaceful. Worn sheets covering his body and that pillow where he could lay his head on and it would always feel good.

That was his bed in New York.

The air mattress that was under him was not that comfortable as it looked like. Those bumps were just horrible. He felt like he was a giant sleeping on hills. And every time he wanted to turn, which was a lot since he couldn't find sleep, the mattress had to make a sound, making him feel like everyone could hear him tossing and turning around.

The only good thing about his bed was the pillow, which he had brought with him from home. He wished he had brought along his sheets too because the sleeping bag was limiting his personal space. Something he didn't have much of in the first place due to the very small tent.

He was probably exaggerating and just being whiny, he knew that for sure actually. And maybe it wasn't that bad at all. Not being able to sleep, just got him more irritated. And the snoring man beside him wasn't really a help to uplift his mood. More the contrary.

Joey's snoring was even louder here in the middle of nowhere with only two pieces of very thin material away from Chandler.

That sleeping clinic was just thrown away money.

What a way to start the vacation.

Well, at least he could sleep the entire day if he wanted to. The whole week, if a day wasn't enough.

He heard some rustling beside him and guessed that, judging by the noises, that Joey was turning over. Thankfully, the snoring stopped. Maybe Joey's conscience had heard Chandler's irritated musings and decided he had suffered enough.

* * *

"Oh look, who's finally up?"

"You are not allowed to use the word 'finally' in that sentence on a Sunday."

Monica groaned and put down her cup of coffee on the not-so-stable table. "You and your Sundays."

"Nothing will ever come between me and my favorite day."

"Not even exercises?" she teased.

"Nope," he grinned. "Besides, I think I've already done more exercises than all my Sundays combined. Do you have any idea how much effort it takes to change clothes into that tent, where you can't even sit upright?"

Monica rolled her eyes. "You poor man. You must all exhausted by now?"

Chandler nodded, dramatically dropping down on the seat beside her, burying his face in his hands on the table. She jokingly rubbed his back in sympathy.

He moved his head a little, so he could glance at her from the side. "So, what have you been doing since…?" he left it open for her to finish.

"8," she answered.

"8?!" he repeated, shocked as he sat upright. Though, despite the shocked expression and his eyes open wide because of that, he still looked like he could fall back asleep any second. "Mon, I don't think you understand the concept of sleeping in," he shook his head. "Or did Joey's snoring wake you?" he questioned, looking kind of guilty as if it were his fault.

"No," she said honestly. It was probably in her nature to wake up early. "Though, Rachel was complaining about that."

"She should be glad that she isn't sleeping in the same tent as him. In the morning it gets even worse when it's combined with the sounds of his growling stomach. For a second I even thought that a bear had found a new home."

"A bear?" she raised an eyebrow.

"Could happen."

"Okay…" she slapped his shoulder, receiving a soft smile from him. "And to answer your earlier question: I ate breakfast-"

"Good idea," Chandler interrupted, as he grabbed a bowl, a milk carton and the cereal that was stalled out on the table.

"I took a shower-" she continued but was cut off once again. Why did he always have to voice out his thoughts immediately?

"You took a shower?" he repeated disbelievingly as he looked up from pouring milk into his bowl, almost spilling as he wasn't really paying attention to the simple act. She nodded and quickly took the milk carton from him before it would turn into a disaster. "In one of those shower stalls of the camping?"

"No, I broke into one of the bungalows to shower there," she deadpanned.

"First, you raid the hotel's kitchen in London and now this," he shook his head. "I know you don't quite like your current workplace, but to trade that in for the criminal world? Don't you think that's a little extreme?"

"Raiding the kitchen was your idea," she pointed out.

"Didn't hear any complaints," he shrugged as he began eating his cereal. "Maybe we can be partners in crime?" he suggested, sounding pretty excited by the idea.

"I'd rather not. You are too clumsy to be a criminal," she teased, smirking.

He smiled slightly and took a deep breath, about to defend himself. But let out the breath again instead. "I should be offended, but I would probably leave a trail of damage behind, making it easy for the police to find us," he admitted in defeat as he stared at his cereal while playing with the spoon. Monica just grinned.

"Ugh." They both looked up in the direction of the sound and found a distressed Rachel making her way to them. "Those showers are horrible!" she said angrily, dumping her bag carelessly in the tent, making Monica cringe. "Like really horrible," she repeated, not being able to find a synonym for the term 'horrible', as she stood next to the table with her hands on her waist.

"Now, that was the reaction I'd expected to hear from Monica," Chandler commented, between mouthfuls of breakfast.

"Hey!"

"You had no problems with the showers?" Rachel cocked an eyebrow, impressed.

"Weird, huh?" Chandler joined in. "I think she didn't even bring her cleaning cart with her."

"Wow," Rachel nodded in amazement.

Great, the two of them had paired up against her. "Hey!" she hit Chandler on the back of his head. "I am not that bad." She really wasn't. She may have been very careful earlier to not touch any of the walls of the shower stalls and she may have kept her flip-flops on, so she wouldn't have to touch that dingy and stingy floor. And she may have made sure to keep her clothes in the bag instead of laying it out on the bench. She shuddered, just the thought creeped her out. But her friends didn't need to know any of that.

"Why don't you hit Rachel?"

"Because you started all of this and Rachel is my best friend," she mocked, grinning.

He pressed with his fingers on his chest where he heart was. "Double ouch."

Rachel gave Monica a grateful smile, before turning to Chandler to give him a nasty triumphant smile, to which he stuck his tongue out.

"So, what was wrong with the showers?" Monica broke the silence.

Rachel plopped down on the seat across from them, while she let out a frustrated sigh, clearly not over her shower experience yet. "Did you know that you can only shower for five minutes?"

"Yeah," she frowned. "Didn't you see the timer?"

"Of course, I saw the timer," Rachel dismissed, averting her eyes as she tossed her hair over her shoulder. Not quite convincing, overall. "But still," she continued, "I just had my all my hair shampooed and then," she snapped her fingers, "the shower stopped, and I had to wait, like, an hour before I could wash it out. Why does there have to be a time limit anyway?"

Monica shared a disbelieving look with Chandler as they dared each other to speak up.

"Now, who says that people from the city don't care about nature?"

Monica ducked her head as a smile tugged at her lips. Realizing the smile wasn't going to disappear, she turned to Rachel, who was staring at Chandler with a death glare. "And there is also a pause button."

Rachel's head snapped toward Monica, her brows furrowing as she leaned over the table to get closer to her friends. "Really?" she asked in a whisper as if afraid if anyone would hear it.

She shared another look with Chandler. Was Rachel really saying all of this? Did she go to the showers while she was still asleep and only opened her eyes when she went back to their camp spot? Because those instructions were written next to the start button. How could she have missed that? Chandler and Monica both turned back to Rachel, slowly nodding.

Joey chose that moment to make himself present, climbing out of the tent, looking like he was playing in a commercial for outdoor camping. Clad in only his boxers shorts and flip-flops, he walked towards the table, carrying a roll of toilet paper under his arm while a towel hung over his shoulder.

"Good morning," he greeted brightly, clearly having had a better night of sleep than his roommate. The response he received was less cheerful as everyone still seemed to be wrapped up in the previous conversation. "Watcha doin'?

That question made everyone's head turn. And before Rachel could start showing her anger over the showers again or before Chandler could make a comment about Joey's appearance, Monica cut in and answered the question with what she had been doing before Chandler came. "Making a shopping list." The only food they had brought with them was cereal, some drinks and the packed food they had eaten yesterday.

"Make sure to buy a lot of meat," Joey pointed out, with a knowing nod and wink.

"Why?" she narrowed her eyes questioningly.

"Because we're gonna barbeque every day," he shrugged as if it were obvious.

"No, we're not."

"What?!" he replied in a higher tone, shocked, his eyes wide. "But that is like a law," he said, using his normal voice again.

"Stop making up laws," Chandler said quickly, irritated.

"First of all," Monica continued, "Phoebe doesn't eat meat-"

"Phoebe!" Joey exclaimed, studying the faces at the table one by one, before making a spin to look around him. "Where's Phoebe?"

"She and Ross went to the bathrooms-"

"To the bathrooms," he pumped a fist in the air, before walking away.

"Quite unsettling that toilet paper," Chandler commented when Joey was out of sight. "I know I won't be going to the toilets for at least the next hour."

Monica shuddered. What was she glad that the ladies' rooms were on the other side of the building.

"Should we tell him that toilet paper is provided by the camping?" Rachel asked.

"Nah, this way people will be warned."

Monica refocused her attention back on the shopping list. Food was better to think about than the topic her friends had at hand.

* * *

Trying, but not quite succeeding, to make as less noise as possible, Chandler unzipped the tent and walked out. Well, not really walking, but whatever was the closest to almost, but not yet, tripping.

As he was zipping the tent close, he heard some soft giggling behind him. People laughing at his clumsiness wasn't anything new. But at this hour? Not so much. Apparently, no time of the day or the night was save to unseeingly stumble anymore. Just his luck.

Chandler turned around and found Monica sitting at the table by a tiny lamp, writing something in a notebook, dressed warmly in sweatpants and a jacket. It looked like she was sitting here on purpose in the middle of the night.

"Please remind me to never have children," he said, referring to the baby that was crying. Joey had at some point finally stopped snoring, but at that moment the baby of their new neighbors had to start wailing.

Somewhere in the afternoon, the family had arrived with their caravan and had vacated the spot beside them. Chandler thought the six of them had taken forever to set up three tents. Comparing to their neighbors, the group might as well have set a new world record.

The young couple spent, like, five seconds of every minute on building stuff. The other fifty-five seconds they spent either making out or overly gushing over the baby. It was really sickening. And if it wasn't bad enough that they were neighbors, they were destined to walk past them too, if they wanted to leave the field.

While the group was shopping, a camper had settled in on the opposite side of the field, in the far corner on the dead-end side. They seemed to be fond of their privacy as the door side of the camper was facing away from the rest of the field. None of the six of them had even seen who owned the camper yet. For all they knew it could be criminals, hiding from the law.

"What about our deal?" Monica cocked an eyebrow, looking over at him while putting the pen down and closing the notebook.

Deal? What deal? They had a deal? He closed his eyes tightly for a second, remembering things at this hour wasn't easy. Oh… that deal. That actually made him smile. She hadn't forgotten about it and seemed to have accepted the offer too. How unlikely to happen the situation was.

"Of course, our deal," he repeated, offering her a sweet smile, which was probably not very useful anyway in the dark. "I meant," he said, trying to think of an explanation while taking a step closer to her, "please remind me to never take us camping when our kids are still babies," he corrected himself.

She frowned. "'Us' and 'our'?" she questioned, looking very puzzled. "Why are you not freaking out?"

He repeated his previous sentence in his head. She had a point. Why exactly wasn't he freaking out? "I don't know," he shrugged, walking over to the table where he set his hands on the surface. "I think I'm maturing. You like it," he wiggled his eyebrows.

"And not just one kid. You said 'kids'."

Suddenly, he felt the need to take his shirt off, so he could get some air. But he decided against it, not wanting to give her another reason to take a step back from the deal. In the year prior to her fortieth birthday, he would start using his gym membership card. "Yeah, I still have a long way to go," he admitted, nodding.

She just chuckled.

"So, what are you writing about?" Chandler asked, changing the subject.

She looked back between the closed notebook and him, frown back as she seemed to be contemplating if she should tell him or not. "About what we did today and stuff," she answered finally.

He narrowed his eyes at her. A diary? That was what she was afraid of telling him? She had him thinking that she had connections with the unknown people in the camper. That she was planning their escape route, or whatever.

"You think I'm crazy now, don't you? You are gonna break the pact."

Chandler laughed. As if ever. "No, that very Monica-y. I'm more concerned about why you decided to do this in the middle of the night."

"I wanted to look at the stars and the moon," she explained.

"It's cloudy," he replied looking up before he studied her. "You couldn't sleep because of the baby's crying," he pointed at her, amused. "I am right, right?"

A short silence followed before she admitted defeat. "Is it so hard to give it a pacifier?" she said, raising her voice slightly, not able to hide her irritation anymore.

He ducked his head as he chuckled.

"Why did you get up?" she asked. "Can't be just because of the crying."

"I had to pee."

"Then why aren't you going?"

"Because," he paused, glancing behind him for a second in the direction of the bathrooms, "I don't have to go anymore."

She stared at him intently for a long moment, instead of just responding or letting the subject go, making him feel uncomfortable as she tried to figure him out.

"You are afraid to go in the dark alone!"

"Am not," he said immediately, making sure to not look away from her, but also not meeting her eyes.

"Sure," she nodded, far from convinced. "Well, I do need to go," she said casually as she turned off the light and stood up.

Chandler watched as she pulled the jacket tighter around her while slowly walking away. He hesitated, looking back and forth between Monica and his tent. Following would be admitting that he had to pee, which he really had to. But staying here would result in either his bladder exploding or him wetting his pants. And since he already had a ruined pair of pants, he decided to follow Monica.

She glanced over her shoulder and halted. "So, you do need to go?" she smirked with that knowing look of her.

"No," he lied, "I figured I'd better go now too. You know, precautionary measures."

"Sure," Monica nodded, still supporting that smirk. Once Chandler had caught up with her, they continued their walk.

"And also, so I can protect you," he broadened his shoulders, deciding he needed another excuse to follow her.

"From what?" she laughed.

He thought for a second, before turning his head to look down at her. "From kidnappers, or those mysterious new neighbors of ours."

"You really don't trust them, do you?" she narrowed her eyes at him.

"Why should I?" he threw his hands, palms up, in the air. "Nobody has seen them yet. Maybe it's a UFO disguised as a camper. And then at nighttime aliens kidnap-"

"Chandler?"

"Yeah?" he refocused his attention on her as his dialogue was interrupted.

"You watch too much TV."

"Well, what else should I do on a dateless Saturday night?"

She let out a deep breath, the corners of her lips went downward. "Yeah…"

All of a sudden, he felt guilty for her change of mood. He draped his arm around her shoulder. "At least we have each other on those Saturday nights, right?"

That seemed to be working, as she moved a bit closer to him and smiled up at him, nodding.

In silence, they entered the building. It was so white and with all the lighting it felt like they'd entered a hospital. Only the smell was different and the fact that there were no doctors around. If he said that out loud with Ross close to him, he knew he would be getting an earful.

He let go of her. "I'm gonna go that way," he gestured toward the men's side of the building. "Otherwise people may get the wrong idea."

She chuckled softly as he made a turn toward the toilet stalls. As much as the main building looked like a hospital, the toilets reminded him more of High School. Text on every wall, as well as a lot of inappropriate drawings. Some secret love declarations, a bunch of phone numbers and, well, what not. You didn't need to bring a magazine or newspaper to the restrooms. There was enough entertainment here.

He made a mental note to bring a marker with him once, so he could leave something himself, aside from what he dumped into the toilet of course.

After washing his hands, he walked back to the main hall where he was surprised to find Monica sitting on one of the benches. He hadn't been gone that long, right? "How fast do you pee?"

"Oh, I didn't have to go," she shrugged casually.

He stood still and felt his shoulders sag while all emotions seemed to drain from his face. Just great. She had tricked him. Which wasn't anything new, but this time it did come as a surprise. She could at least have gone to the toilet herself, so he wouldn't feel like such a pathetic loser. Suddenly, using the ladies' room didn't look that mortifying anymore.

As he stared ahead of him, he only became aware that Monica had come to stand beside of him when she started tugging on his arm, trying to get him walking. Reluctantly, he let himself be dragged along by her. It wasn't like he had much choice. If he had stayed put, he would have fallen forward eventually, due to the unbelievable strength she had in her arms.

He knew she was smiling proudly, he could see it in the corner of his eye. But he refused to look at her, so he kept staring straight ahead of him. "Don't be surprised when you wake up in that UFO. I may or may not have been the person who handed you over to the aliens."

"Ha-ha," she fake-laughed.

Neither of them said a word as they continued walking down the path until they turned toward each other as they had both chosen a different direction on a crossroads.

"Chandler, where are you going? It's this way."

He shook his head fiercely in response from his position a few steps away from her.

"Chandler, when was the last time you were right about something?"

"I believe it was me who knew the whole way to the camping without using a map," he said as he remembered proudly. "So, if I know anything, it's about directions."

She actually seemed to think that over, but the hope that she would change her mind was over soon. "I'm sure we have to go this way," she said, determined as she turned back around to continue her walk.

Chandler looked over his shoulder in, what he was sure of, the right direction. But as he looked that way, he also felt anxiety creeping up inside him. He could follow that path on his own with the risk of getting sucked up into the darkness, or he could walk the other way with the risk of getting lost, but then, at least, he wouldn't be alone.

The latter seemed preferable and less dangerous, so after running a hand through his hair, he took some quick steps to walk next to her. "Don't say anything," he warned her. "I've already lost my dignity."

"At least, you're afraid of something normal," she tried to reassure him with a smile, "not something random, like, swings," she pointed to the swing that had come into view near the sidewalk.

Chandler looked in the direction she was pointing to. "I'm pretty sure we never passed that on the way to the bathrooms," he said as he tried to make eye contact with her but failed as she kept looking another way. She had probably realized that too but wasn't going to admit that. "And I'm also pretty sure that a thing as swing-phobia doesn't exist. Swingers-phobia, however? Probably. But being afraid of regular swings? Not so much."

"Then you haven't heard about Rachel's youth trauma yet," Monica smirked, seemingly glad by the change of subject.

"I am definitely going to ask her about it," he nodded as he took his chance and ran to the swing. "Sounds like a premise for a great horror story." He sat down on the wooden plank and set his feet on the ground, before walking backward and raising his feet off the ground to set the swing in motion. It had been a long time since he had been on a swing. Something which could not be said about Joey. For him, a visit to the park was incomplete without going to the swings.

"This isn't fair! There is only one swing," Monica whined, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Now, who is the immature one?" he laughed at his friends' childish demeanor, while he kept gentle swaying. It was like cycling, once you knew the trick, you couldn't unlearn it.

"I'm not acting immature," she answered immediately, defending herself. "I'm just letting my inner child out."

"In that case, you are free to play in the sandbox," Chandler gestured with his head toward the direction of the only other attribute on the playground.

"Oh great. Playing in a box full of poo," she deadpanned, making him chuckle. "Oh wait, we can sit on the swing together," she said enthusiastically.

He narrowed his eyes at her. "I know you have a tiny ass, but my big one has already taken up the whole seat. There isn't even enough place to set your feet on it to stand behind me. And you sitting on my lap," he paused, "I have a feeling that'll end in a disaster."

She shook her head, smiling, as she moved closer to him. "I know a different way. Now, scoot back a little, so you sit on your thighs," she said as she carefully took hold of the chains, so the swing would stop moving.

Chandler watched her carefully and clung to the chains tightly. Who knew what she was up to? Maybe she would push him off, so she got the whole swing to herself. Continuing watching her every move, he slowly scooted backward.

The next moment he felt himself watching in utter amazement as she gripped the chains tightly, lifted herself off the ground, swung her legs on either side of his waist and sat down on his lap, almost on his knees. All in one fluent motion.

She was already leaning back and stretching her legs to get the swing moving, while he was still staring in bewilderment at her. Maybe even drooling too. "Come on," she prompted.

"Right," he blinked and leaned back and stretched his legs as she leaned forward and bent her knees. And soon, they were moving higher and higher until they reached the highest point.

"Man!" she exclaimed, happily. "I haven't done this in a long time. I honestly think this is the first time that I'm on top."

Chandler couldn't help the grin that appeared on his face. "So, you like it on top?"

"Well, I think you would crush me if you would get on top," she answered innocently, making his grin only wider.

"No man ever likes to hear that," he replied, trying to sound hurt.

She frowned at him, confused as they stopped their movements before realization slowly dawned on her face. "I didn't mean it that way!" she scolded and if she hadn't had to hold the chains, he was sure he would have received a poke or slap too. But probably a playful one, since she was hiding back a smile and soon she started laughing.

Her laugh was beautiful to hear, infectious too, resulting in him to laugh uncontrollably with her, as they resumed swinging. At a slower speed as before, though. They kept on laughing, not because of the joke, but just because they could. And maybe because they were two adults sitting on one swing in the middle of the night, while the whole camping was fast asleep.

Their laughter subsided a bit, but the smiles never disappeared. Chandler watched the woman in front of him as she closed her eyes, seeming to be at total peace. This side of her, where she let her inner child out, was a rarity to witness, but it suited her perfectly. She had always been known as the most mature of their group, and she was too. Which was good, because their group had already enough immature members. But as she let her head fall back, he couldn't help but be grateful to witness this carefree and more childish side of her.

"What are you thinking about?"

Chandler shook his head slightly and blinked his eyes, not realizing until now that he had been staring. He felt his cheeks burning up as she had caught him but hoped she couldn't notice the blush in the darkness. He could tell her the truth and tell her that she looked beautiful and that she was amazing. Something he had said to her before, always in complete honesty. But now something told him that he shouldn't say that to her, as in this particular moment it seemed to have a deeper meaning. One he wasn't even ready to admit to himself.

"I think my legs have fallen asleep," he said instead, which was also true, his legs had gone numb.

She tilted her head to the side, a thoughtful expression on her face as she was judging the truthfulness of his words. "Yeah, maybe we should get back before the others start getting worried," she suggested and they both stilled their movements, waiting for the swing to stand still.

"Though, now we are taking my path back."

"That's okay," she shrugged, surprising Chandler by admitting her defeat. "We have to stop at the restrooms, though, because I have to pee," she continued softly.

"But you said you didn't have to," he commented, raising his voice slightly.

"That was before," she explained. "I blame you for making me laugh."

That made him smile. "I can't say I'm sorry for that."


	8. The One With The Homeless Shellfish

**Chapter 8: The One With The Homeless Shellfish**

Yet another morning had started and unlike yesterday, everyone had gotten up early. Early that is before 10 a.m., which was for some people really early. Of course, it was part of the plans that they, well she actually, had made for today. And for that plan to work, everyone had to be up by now.

Fortunately, that was the case.

While Monica busied herself with making coffee, she listened as Rachel first denied and later, as that didn't work, tried to explain her trauma on the swings. Of course, Chandler wasn't taking it very seriously.

"What are you smiling about?"

Monica had turned around, facing the table now, but didn't realize that Rachel was talking to her, or that she was smiling for that matter, until she met Rachel's gaze. "Huh?"

"Why have you told Chandler that story?" Rachel questioned, annoyed. "Maybe I should tell him an embarrassing story about you that involves swings that I heard from Ross…" she challenged as an evil smile appeared on her face.

"Don't you dare," she said warningly, staring at Rachel, as she sat down next to Chandler.

"Oh, please do," Chandler, of course, encouraged.

Grinning, Rachel turned her attention to the man sitting on the other side of the table. "Monica once broke the porch swing and blamed it on hurricane Gloria."

She expected loads of sarcastic and insulting comments, so she rested her head in the palm of her hand and avoided eye contact, but as the response didn't come, she dared to look up. He had his head tilted to one side as he frowned.

"How did you do that? Were you jumping on it?" he finally asked, looking directly at Monica.

"She was pretty big back then, remember?" Rachel said emphasizing on the word 'big' while making hand gestures, to make her point clearer.

Monica cringed inwardly, not enjoying being remembered by those horrible days when she was overweight. True, she had made peace with it and it was all in the past, though she couldn't help but feel a bit hurt whenever it was mentioned.

"Yes, I remember," Chandler shrugged dismissively, not indulging further on the subject, much to Monica's delight. "I just find it hard to believe that one person could break a swing, especially since nothing happened when Monica and I shared a swing to-"

"Whoa-whoa-whoa," Rachel cut in, waving her hand in front of her, interrupting Chandler. "When did that happen?" she asked, leaning over the table, glancing between the two of them.

"Last night."

"Last night?!" Rachel repeated, throwing her hands, palms up, in the air and leaned back in her seat again. Clearly, she wanted more information on that subject, but she didn't get that as the other three came back from getting some luxury bread from the supermarket.

The table was set and the other three joined them at the table, while the croissants were handed out by Phoebe, who couldn't say the word 'croissant' enough times since she had discovered that she was indeed able to pronounce the word.

But Monica didn't really notice anything other than that happening as her thoughts were thrown back to the adventurous night she had. The smile she had supported that night immediately came back on her face. When she woke up this morning she could hardly believe that all had actually happened, but now that he had confirmed it, she knew for sure that it had happened. Somehow, it was all so dreamlike. Two adults, who were best friends, sharing a swing in the middle of the night, that sounded like something so random that would only occur in dreams. This, however, was reality. And she couldn't be happier.

That she had a great time and a whole lot of fun, was an understatement. One of the things she realized while swinging, was that lately all the times she had felt the happiest and relaxed, was when she was around her goofy friend. If it were just together sharing the loveseat back home, or having fun in the hotel's kitchen, or strolling through the camping at nighttime.

"Uh, Pheebs?"

Monica was pulled back from her thoughts by the hesitant voice of the leading person in her daydream. Glancing at her side, she saw Chandler looking at his empty plate, while he had his hand raised in the air.

"Can I have one too?" he asked when Phoebe kept her mouth shut. She still remained silent as she started to prepare her breakfast, earning questioning looks from every direction of the table. "Pheebs?" he tried again, frown deepening, but it was a lost cause.

"Why did you only grab five croissants?" Ross asked while glancing between the plates on the table. "Did you miscount?"

"No," Phoebe shook her head, still only paying attention to her bread.

"So you just didn't get me one?" Chandler asked for clarification and Phoebe just nodded her head. "Why?"

Her head shot up. "Oh, you know why," she said matter-of-factly.

"Now see, that's where you are wrong because otherwise I wouldn't have asked and I would have prepared myself for an impromptu hunger strike."

"Because you broke our pact!" Phoebe finally spat out.

"Oh no!" Joey immediately said accusingly, but probably clueless to what she really was talking about.

"What pact?" Chandler questioned.

"Oh, please," Phoebe responded, disbelievingly. "I heard you and Monica last night."

"What did the two of you do last night?" Rachel asked, confused even more than earlier that morning, which wasn't out of the ordinary since she hadn't received an answer back about that either.

Everyone's eyes were immediately drawn to Monica and Chandler, while Monica glanced at Chandler, not understanding what their conversations from last night had to do with whatever was bothering Phoebe.

"You mean the back-up plan?" Chandler eventually guessed after a pause. Phoebe gave him a single nod as if waiting for him to explain it further. "Phoebe," he began, refocusing his eyes on her, "I know that I'm like third, if not further, in line to be your back-up."

Phoebe was about to defend herself, but chose otherwise, probably because of everyone staring at her. "How do you know about that?"

"Ross and Joey told me," he shot back, smugly. "As did Gunther."

"Phoebe!" Ross almost shouted, accusingly. "You can't back up your back-up."

"Yeah," Joey agreed.

"So everyone has a back-up, except for me?"

"And I am your second back-up?" Monica added to the pile of questions.

"Besides," Chandler continued, ignoring the others, "you, or Rachel for that matter, would only ever want to be with me, because of the money."

"Well, duh," Phoebe confirmed, without even a slight hesitation.

"What? Are you rich?" Rachel leaned over the table, suddenly interested as her former spoiled-self took over herself, making Monica's eyes roll.

Chandler shook his head, disbelievingly. "And that's exactly why I want Monica as my first back-up," he replied, looking directly at her as he put his arm briefly around her shoulders to squeeze it slightly.

She couldn't help that big smug grin that started to form on her face as she and Chandler shared a short glance at one another before Phoebe started talking again.

"So, now I have to wait for Monica to turn forty too?" she whined, as of it was the end of the world. "This is so unfair! I've already lost Ross to Emily… and now I might have to wait even longer… If I don't get married ever, because you put Monica first…" she pointed a finger at Chandler.

"-and when all the other people on this planet are miraculously already married-" Chandler added.

"-then I'll curse you and your married life."

"In that case," Monica cut in, really wanting to put this hypothetical conversation to an end because now it seemed more like it was going to go on forever, "Chandler will look for your soul-mate."

"I will?" he turned to her once again, though this time with a grimace.

"Yes," she confirmed, nodding her head and trying to keep a straight face as she took it a bit further, "in fact, he will fly to Minsk to get David."

"Oh! I'd like that!" Phoebe clapped her hands, excitedly.

"So, you're just gonna send the love of your life to Minsk?" he repeated her words, still looking at her. "Just like that?" he snapped his fingers, waiting for confirmation. Monica nodded, grinning slightly so only he would notice, just to show that she was teasing. "Okay," he shrugged in response. "I've seen Yemen, might as well visit Belarus. Can't get much worse, right?"

"Hello," Rachel alarmed, waving her arms in the air from across the table. "What about me? I still have no back-up?"

"I'm sure Gunther is willing to trade," Chandler stated, receiving questioning looks from everyone around the table, but before the conversation could start from the start again, he continued. "Now, if you will excuse me, I'm gonna get me some of the regular breakfast food," he said, grabbing a bowl, milk, and cereal from the table.

It was far from quiet at breakfast as Phoebe accused Rachel of stealing Gunther. The others kept quiet though and didn't even seem interested in the discussion. Joey had let the topic go long ago and was just enjoying his breakfast. Ross reluctantly ate his food, not having said a word since Phoebe mentioned Emily. Monica felt kind of sorry for Chandler, because he had said quite some sweet things, at least for her benefit, but still he had no croissant. Not that it really mattered as he seemed to enjoy his cereal and it wasn't like he was as obsessed with food as her or Joey. But she still felt sorry, so she cut her piece in half and handed him one of the parts.

"Thanks," he smiled one of his sweetest smiles at her, showing how grateful he was with such a simple gesture. "Another reason you're my first choice," he whispered.

* * *

"What about that guy?"

"Well, he's obviously alone. And he's pretending to read a book-"

"Pretending? How come?"

Chandler sighed and sat up more, so he could face Monica better. "He's wearing sunglasses while reading a book. It's the perfect crime. When in reality he's looking over the book and lur-" he shook his head, correcting himself, when he realized who he was talking to, "looking at the female population."

Monica lifted her sunglasses to let it rest upon her head, which resulted in him seeing her narrowed eyes. "That's just sick. You sure?"

"Either that or he is in hiding. But in that case, he would-"

"-still be lurking at chicks," she finished his sentence.

Chandler smiled down at her as he tilted his head sideways. "Your words."

"Men!" she groaned in response.

He just shrugged as he glanced around him. Sure, it was no Baywatch, as Joey pointed out later, but still, he couldn't deny the beauty that walked around on the beach. Or that one beauty that was currently laying on a beach towel beside him. But he was very careful not to look in her direction in that way. Especially with her brother walking around on the beach too.

"As are you!"

Chandler's head snapped back toward the woman beside him, who, going by her tone of voice, was accusing him of something. "Huh?"

"I said that you men are really pathetic with your non-subtle staring."

"So, you're finally admitting that I am a man?" he couldn't help but point out. It was nothing new that he was labeled as pathetic. That happened on a weekly basis.

"Ugh," she groaned again and let herself drop backward on the towel.

That only made him smile more and upon realizing that their conversation had come to an end, he went back to looking around him again. Watching and judging strangers is always entertaining. Something they did a lot in New York too, where everyone apart from the six of them, and Gunther, in Central Perk was a stranger to them.

He waved over at Phoebe who was coming his way. With a big smile on her face, a bright yellow bucket and a skip in her step, she looked like she seemed to have the most of fun, not at all ashamed to show her inner-child.

"Look at all the seashells I found!" she exclaimed excitedly as she dropped down on her own beach towel and emptied the content of the bucket on another one.

Chandler examined the pieces. "So, how many pieces does this jigsaw have?"

"I don't know, I lost count," she answered seriously, to which Chandler raised an eyebrow. "I just think that it's unfair that the broken shells never get any attention and never get picked," she continued as she rummaged through the pieces and randomly picked up two pieces to see if they fit together. "And now I'm going to rebuild the shells to give them a second chance. Maybe I can give some homeless shellfish a new home."

"Ah, real estate Buffay, for all your glued-together homes under sea level."

"Uh-huh," she nodded in agreement, busying herself with the task at hand.

"I absolutely think that you should share your ideas with Ross," Monica said, amused as she sat back up again, leaning backward on her elbows.

Chandler chuckled slightly, not too loud so Phoebe wouldn't get suspicious.

"So, what were you guys doing?" Phoebe asked them when silence fell.

"Checking out guys," Monica replied nonchalantly.

"Chandler too, huh?" Phoebe winked at him, making Chandler wince. But before he could deny it, Monica spoke up again.

"No, he was lurking at chicks," she responded with disgust. "Sick, don't you think?"

"No," Phoebe shrugged, "I do that too."

This could get interesting…

"Okay, not necessarily that way," she admitted and explained further, noticing her friends' blank expressions. "It's important to know about the competition with Mr. Peekerson over there," she nodded her head in the direction of the man, Chandler and Monica were talking about earlier.

He shot Monica an 'I told you so'-look, which she dismissed immediately.

"And Chandler," Phoebe added, "if you want attention from those ladies, maybe you should take your shirt off. Like all the beachgoers do."

Ah great, another lecture about the T-shirt he hadn't taken off.

Just before he turned back to Phoebe, he noticed Monica's 'haha'-smirk. "Believe me when I say that my chances of getting to talk to a woman are much higher when I keep it on. Taking it off will just send the whole female population, with Joey chasing after them, running to wherever is furthest away."

"That is so true."

"Says the man who hasn't seen his wife since the wedding," Chandler shot back at Ross, who had just arrived at their spot on the beach.

"Heh!" he cried, offended. "That is-" he cut his own sentence short as he saw his beach towel. Or better, what was sprawled upon it. "Phoebe, what is this?!"

"Oh," Phoebe said, still excited and seemingly very oblivious to Ross's tone of voice, "you're gonna love this idea…"

Chandler and Monica simultaneously looked at one another, before bursting out in laughter. Their friends could be so predictable at times.

* * *

"Rachel! How many times have I told you that you have to use the brush for the cups too? Just dipping it under water is not good enough."

"Was about time you noticed," Rachel murmured, loud enough for Monica to hear though.

That got her full attention and caused her to stop drying the dishes immediately. "What?" she raised her eyebrows and turned sideways to face her friend by leaning against the counter, resting one hand on her hip.

"Monica," Rachel replied as she put another wrong-washed cup in the other sink, "that was like the fourth cup that I put away like that. I'm just saying that it took you very long to notice."

"Rachel!" she accused her friend again. Unbelievable that she did that on purpose. She knew that washing the dishes was all but a game to Monica.

Rachel shrugged with a smirk on her face. "It just seems like that someone has something on their mind," she wiggled her eyebrows.

Monica barely registered Rachel's words as she looked how her friend kept washing not only the cup but practically everything else in the wrong way. Her fingers started to itch. It was so unfair. They had been roommates for like four years now, you should assume that she had remembered the system by now. Like it wasn't enough that she had to do the dishes at this public place.

The decision was made quickly. She threw the dishtowel at Rachel and almost shoved Rachel out of the way and threw everything back in the water, to wash it again. If she wanted to do right, she'd better just do it herself. She should have known.

"Or better yet, someone."

Once again, Monica was clueless to what Rachel was talking about, "What?" she asked as she gently nudged her head at the pile of dishes Rachell had to dry, but Rachel seemed more interested in the topic where she apparently had some unanswered questions in.

"Oh come on, Mon," she said, her impatience and annoyance growing as she dropped her hands at her side. "I've known you since forever and I can tell when something, or in this case someone, is on your mind. But," she paused, her annoyance turning more into frustration by every second that passed, "I just can't figure out who it is."

Monica glanced sideways for a second, raising her eyebrows in question, before turning back to the dishes. "I don't know what you're talking about," she replied earnestly.

"All the signs are there," Rachel continued, waving her hands, and the towel, wildly in the air in front of her. "You've been more lost in your thoughts lately and you've been happier too."

She had to admit that Rachel had some points here. It was only this morning that she had come to the conclusion herself that she had been happier in general. She had even realized who was the cause of that…

"Even now you're being all distant again," Rachel pointed out and Monica realized that she was right once again as she had stopped washing those dishes. "Oh! Is it someone you can't like because he is already involved," she guessed.

"There is no one," Monica replied sternly, ripping the dish towel out of Rachel's hands to continue drying the pile that had started to grow.

"Or is it Danny?" Rachel kept guessing. "Because that's okay. I, hereby, give you my permission to ask him out."

"What?" she responded, shocked but also confused. "What about you and Danny?"

"Oh," she dismissed like it was nothing, "that isn't going anywhere anyway."

Monica eyed her friend's face for a second. It seemed like it only took a few days for her friend to have forgotten about their newly discovered neighbor. "You've got your eyes on someone else?"

"Uh…"

That said enough. "You're interested in Ross again?" she almost yelled in disbelieve. Some other people around them turned their heads, to see what the fuss was about.

"No, not again," Rachel said immediately, her gaze focused at the floor as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "More like… still," she admitted in a whisper.

"Rachel!" Monica screamed but lowered her voice as she became aware of the growing audience. "You do remember he is married, right?"

"Yes, I know," she rolled her eyes. "But that doesn't keep us from taking our relationship to the next level."

Monica blinked a few times. Rachel was making less sense by the second, making it hard for her to keep her focus on the wet plates that needed to be dried. "How's that?"

Rachel was smiling very brightly all of a sudden as she answered. "He offered to be my back-up, just like Chandler asked you."

Sighing, Monica contemplated if she should bring Emily up again, but it didn't seem that a marriage was an obstacle in Rachel's dreamy state. "Maybe he was just trying to get back at Phoebe," she spoke carefully, putting the last dried plated on the pile, before going back to the sink with the dishwater for the next round.

She could feel Rachel's intense gaze on her, obviously not pleased with the comment.

"You two realize that the idea of washing the dishes together, is to get the work done earlier, right?"

Both of the girls turned around, upon hearing Chandler's voice. Judging from the direction he was coming from and the fact that his hair was still wet, he had just taken a shower.

"You'd think, huh?" Monica said quickly, a bit annoyed too that it was taking them, or better her, so long to complete such a simple daily task.

"Rachel's screwing with the system?" he said matter-of-factly, cocking an eyebrow and Monica answered with a single nod.

"Hello!" Rachel tried to get in between the conversation her other friends were having. "I have ears and eyes, you know."

"Good luck with that," he chuckled, nudging his head toward Rachel while keeping eye contact with Monica before he walked past them to the exit. Monica returned to the dishes, once again.

"How mean… He barely acknowledged me."

"Well, maybe that has something to do with the lecture you gave him earlier on the beach," Monica shot back.

"That's different," she replied knowingly. "The man comes with a shirt. That's weird."

"What's weird?" Monica felt like she needed to defend him, especially after all the judgments and lectures everyone had poured over him, just because he kept his T-shirt on. "Walking around without a shirt is probably out of his comfort zone. Just let him be."

"That doesn't bother you?"

"No," she shrugged. "I can identify."

"See, that's another thing I don't get," Rachel threw up her hands as she leaned with her back against the counter. "You and Chandler and your secrecy. First, a lot of things happen in London, which you still haven't told me anything about. Then there was last night with the swings," she tilted her shoulders in question, "whatever that means. Not to mention that you seem perfectly fine, even more than fine, with the idea of you two getting together when you are forty. And just now you seem incapable to look at anyone else but each other. Even now-"

Had she finally come to an end to the likely useless and pointless list? What was wrong, and moreover weird, that Monica had spent time with Chandler? They had been doing that ever since he had moved in across the hall from her. What-

"Mon?" Rachel questioned short pause. Monica deterred the joy in her friend's voice. Joy combined with so much glee, like she had discovered something incredibly important.

"Yeah?"

"What is so interesting about Chandler's back?"

It took her a few seconds before she had registered the question completely. And once she had heard the question over and over in her head again, she realized that she was distracted. As in she had stopped scrubbing the dishes and was indeed looking out of the window, that was placed over the sink, at Chandler. And the worst part was that Rachel was, in fact, right. Again.

Monica ducked her head as she felt her cheeks redden. She didn't really know, though. Because she was caught? But of what? Staring at her friend? Nothing to be ashamed about, right? Yet, it felt like she should feel ashamed.

Monica shook her head, trying to clear it. It was all very confusing.

"You're blushing!" Rachel pointed out, excitedly. "Do you have a thing for Chandler?" Before Monica could even say anything or think about the question, she continued, having drawn her own conclusions already. "Oh my god, you have a thing for Chandler!" she cried, actually jumping around and once again drawing attention from everyone else present in the room. "This is so surreal!" she put her hands on her own cheeks, amazed.

"Rachel, why don't you bring this back to our tents," Monica suggested, picking up the pile of plates and a few cups that were washed and dried. It was better for Rachel to leave now before she would bring up the wedding book and start planning a wedding. And before Monica even had a chance for herself to think this subject through. Thoroughly.

"Right," Rachel took the pile, apparently unable to wipe that big grin off her face. "But we're having a girls' night in later," she said more enthusiastic than ever, almost skipping as she left the building, not waiting for a response.

"Be careful!" Monica called after her, afraid that she would drop everything.

"This is so exciting!"

Before Monica could say otherwise, Rachel was gone. And maybe that was for the better because she really couldn't trust her voice, or facial expressions, right now. This really wasn't that much of a big deal, because Rachel was just jumping to conclusions like gossipers tend to do. Conclusions based on small things she had noticed. So, this really wasn't that exciting or interesting.

Right?


	9. The One Under The Stars

**Chapter 9: The One Under The Stars**

"Oh, man… A whole day on the beach… And packed sandwiches for lunch," Joey said, practically drooling on their way to the beach. And then to think he had just finished eating breakfast. "This is gonna be the best day ever!"

Chandler was convinced that any day in Joey's life that involved sandwiches, could be considered the best day in his life. The man was very easily pleased. And then you throw in another hot day on the beach surrounded by female beauty… It must be what Joey's version of heaven looks like. Only the pizzas were missing.

"It's just too bad that I can't dig a hole anymore," he whined.

"Well, you can," Chandler said.

Yesterday, Joey had spent all afternoon digging a hole, only for the lifeguards to show up and ask him to fill it again, to prevent accidents from happening. That, of course, ruined Joey's happy demeanor. The rest of the time on the beach, Joey kept himself busy refilling the hole, sulking in self-grief the entire time, of course.

"Never again," he said, determined. "Stupid lifeguards," he muttered, kicking a stone, "who don't look like the ones from Baywatch at all."

"So, what are you gonna do then?" he asked, genuinely curious.

"Oh, you know…" he shrugged.

Chandler looked sideways at his friend as they kept on walking. Joey was still looking straight ahead of him, but now supporting a big grin. "No," he shook his head, "I don't. What is it?"

"Oh, just something…" Joey answered, turning his head and keeping his tone mysterious. "You'll see," he added, lifting his eyebrows twice before winking.

Chandler frowned in response, taking a step to the side, distancing himself from his friend. Being on the receiving end of Joey's winking, was a situation he'd never thought he would found himself in. It was really unsetting. "You're gonna hit on me?"

"You wish."

"No," he shook his head firmly, "I really don't."

A silence fell between them, so Chandler looked in front of him again. A few feet ahead of them, Monica and Phoebe were walking. It looked like Phoebe was doing all the talking, while Monica was just nodding every once in a while, probably not even listening at all.

Monica had been acting strangely ever since yesterday evening. Like, obviously avoiding Rachel at all costs, who was in a dying need to talk to her.

Suddenly, Phoebe turned around, now walking backward, trying to make eye contact with Joey. Chandler looked between the two of them as they exchanged sneaky looks and wicked smiles before Phoebe turned back around.

"Oh, god, Phoebe has gotten you involved in one of her evil plans, hasn't she?" Chandler realized, mortified.

"No," was his response, obviously looking away, which indicated that he was lying.

Now, he knew that the two of them had something on their sleeve. But what? With those two you never knew. It was as unpredictable as life itself. He'd better be aware because it definitely had to do something with him.

* * *

"What if," Joey started while they all sat around on their beach towels, enjoying the lunch, "we all went to Atlantic City tonight to turn that place upside down?"

"Yeah!" Phoebe agreed, wholeheartedly. "Show them the definition of partying New York style."

"And what is that exactly?" Ross wondered.

"Dancing like the statue of Liberty would while singing 'New York, New York'?" Chandler took a guess.

"So, you're coming?" Joey asked the other four, leaving the comments for what it was.

"I don't know-" Ross started, unsure.

"Of course he will come," Rachel cut him off and answered for him. "As will I," she added, hooking her arm around Ross's as if claiming him.

Ross seemed a bit startled by her actions, not that anyone could blame him, but after a few seconds he relaxed and smiled down at Rachel. "Then I guess I'm going."

"Mon?" Phoebe questioned when Ross and Rachel didn't say anything anymore and only seemed to have eyes for each other.

"I'm not sure," she replied honestly, picking the plastic bags and the other trash they'd collected. She was not one to leave their trash behind. Especially not on the beach.

"Oh, come on, Mon." Rachel pleaded, tearing her eyes away from Ross.

"It's just why would you visit such a big city when you spend most of your time in another one?" she explained, leaning back on her elbows. Besides, it was such beautiful weather. Why would you ever want to leave this place?

"But you have to come," Rachel continued, now whining. "It won't be the same without you."

Just as Monica was about to leave the option for tonight open, Chandler said something.

"I don't think I'm going either," he said with a disgusted face. "Bad memories," he went on, seemingly only Ross understood as he nodded.

"But if you really don't want to, you can stay," Rachel suddenly changed her mind, speaking to Monica directly, nudging her head ever so slightly to Chandler so only she would notice.

She almost groaned out loud, but held it back just in time, not wanting to explain her irritation. She had, successfully, been avoiding Rachel and her persistent need to talk about what she had discovered. Or what she thought she had discovered, because to Monica any thought that was even remotely connected to Chandler, resolved in one giant mess of questions in her head.

One thing was for sure, she was never going to wash the dishes with anyone ever again. It would be much more efficient anyway.

"Good to know you're so eager to have me to join you guys," Chandler commented.

"Well, isn't it true that you'd rather have Monica staying here with you than staying behind alone?" Rachel questioned him.

"Absolutely right," he smiled.

Monica purposely looked away from both Rachel and Chandler's gazes, but it didn't help her cheeks from burning up. She just hoped it wasn't noticeable with the sun shining full upon them.

"Chandler? Can you pass me a drink?" Joey asked when the subject of Atlantic City had come to an end.

Chandler looked over his shoulder to where the cool box lay under the umbrella and then back at Joey with narrowed eyes, eyeing him warily.

Today, she had noticed, that she hadn't been the only one avoiding certain people. Since their arrival on the beach, Chandler had kept a distance between him and Joey and Phoebe.

"Can't you get it yourself? I'm not your butler."

"But you are my best friend," Joey stuck his bottom lip out and used his puppy eyes.

It was unbelievable how that line always seemed to work on Chandler. Though, probably not as unbelievable as how many times Joey actually used that line.

"You really shouldn't be allowed to use that excuse anymore," he groaned but made a move to get up nonetheless.

"Now!"

Before Monica could even register what was happening, both Joey and Phoebe had thrown themselves on Chandler. In the midst of some unidentifiable words of protest, it wasn't clear what was happening or why, but it ended with Joey running to the sea, shirt in hand.

"And we thought Ross resembled a sheet," Phoebe commented.

"Hey!" Ross exclaimed, offended.

Chandler, for once, didn't say anything. With all eyes on him, he was desperately in search of something to cover him up. Seeing him standing there, proved what Monica had always suspected. That he had nothing to be ashamed of. But it was probably those emotional scars, gotten earlier in his life, what made him so self-conscious. And emotional scars ran the deepest, she knew and understand that. It was why she preferred wearing shorts over her bikini bottoms. Strangely, nobody had ever commented on that.

Eventually, he just laid down on his stomach on his beach towel. "I might as well try that tanning thing," he mumbled as he made himself comfortable.

"In that case, you better put on some sunblock," Ross pointed out.

"Or," Phoebe said, clapping her hands as an idea popped into her head, "we cover you up with sand."

"Reenacting one of my worst nightmares," he replied dryly, fortunately, the humor was back in his voice, "sure."

"Oh, great!" Phoebe exclaimed and bent down to grab a handful of sand and dumped it on his back.

Just then Joey came back with a soaked shirt in his hands. As soon as he noticed what Phoebe was doing, he dropped the garment and joined her. "This is the perfect ending to our plan," Joey laughed.

Monica quickly grabbed the shirt from the ground and hung it expertly on the umbrella, so it could dry in the sun. She was sure he would appreciate the gesture.

"Come on, Ross, help us," Phoebe called Ross. "Show us some of your digging skills."

That motivated Ross enough and he jumped into action, Rachel in tow.

Monica looked down to get a look on Chandler's face. He was laughing and smiling, so that meant that he was okay. That was the reassurance she needed and, not being to help herself, she joined the rest too.

Acting your own age was overrated.

* * *

"I can't believe how bad you are at this game."

"And I can't believe you haven't thrown that paddle in my face yet."

"I have never done such a thing!" Monica responded defensively.

"You're right," Chandler admitted, picking up the ball that had fallen on the ground, during their game of beach paddleball, where they tried to hit the ball back and forth as many times as possible. "A plate, however…," he said as he brought the ball back in the game. Monica hit the ball back, with some frustration. "Ouch," he cried when the ball hit him on the forehead.

"It couldn't have hurt that bad," she commented.

"It was a plate of stone," he said, rubbing his forehead.

"I was talking about the ball…"

"Sure," he replied with a single nod, picking up the ball, yet again. Surprisingly, Monica missed the ball this time, so he laughed.

"That was because of your horrible serve," she blamed him, eyeing him angrily.

It was amusing to how competitive she could be, but at the same time, it was also scary. Checking the area near her, he was glad that he didn't see any plates, knives or other dangerous objects. She was, however, holding that paddle, something that could probably have similar results as a plate, when thrown at him.

"I can't believe I'm playing this game with you," she growled. Fortunately, it was just mean words that she threw at him.

"It wasn't like I volunteered either," he recalled. "You dragged me here to get away from Rachel. What is it with you two anyway?"

She paused for a second, while skillfully balancing the ball on the paddle. "I just didn't feel like gossiping about boys," she explained.

"About her and Ross?" he guessed. By now, everyone had noticed the affection the two of them were showing each other. "That's what you were talking about yesterday, right?"

"Yes! About Ross!" she exclaimed, almost dropping the ball. She sounded a bit too enthusiastic to his ears. "It's like, she has forgotten, or just won't admit it, that he is married," Monica added in a much calmer tone.

"She isn't the only one," he said, moving closer to her now that it looked like the game was over anyway.

"Ross too, huh?"

"Yep," he nodded, leaning with his forearm on her shoulder. "This vacation sure is bringing some repressed feelings above the water."

"Hmm-mmm," she agreed, sounding a bit off-distance.

"Oh?" he questioned, arching his eyebrow.

She looked up at him and shook her head. "I told you, I don't feel like gossiping."

He held up his hands in surrender, bringing the conversation to an end. Something was definitely up. But he'd better wait a while before bringing up the subject again. Now, was not a good time, because she was still in her competitive mode.

"Want to make this game more interesting?"

He scrunched up his face. "Do I?"

She grabbed him by the arm before he could flee, "It's much more fun to play this in the water."

That alarmed him, so he attempted to stop walking, but Monica's dragging forces were stronger. "No, no, no," he shook his head. "My shirt is just dry, I'm not going into the water."

"Don't be such a wuss," she said, tugging at his arm even harder, so he didn't have any choice but to follow her. "We're just going to stand in the shallow part."

Not much later, they had restarted their game as they stood up until their knees in the water. The water was cold but tolerable. Well, almost.

From Monica's point of view, he understood why she had wanted to play the game this way. It was much more challenging now, with the added chance of falling into the water. And Monica was never one to deny a challenge.

And since he didn't want to trip, he had to try a little harder himself. And the extra effort had paid off. Their record from playing on land was broken soon. He even had to admit, that he was enjoying it.

Ready for Monica's serve, he was surprised to see her just standing there, one hand resting on her hip. "I don't understand…," she spoke eventually. "How come you're suddenly good at this?"

His opened his eyes wide when he realized what he had done. One was his so well kept secrets was now out in the open.

"So, you are good at sports?" she asked, surprised but also slightly confused and irritated.

He shook his head wildly, laughing. "Definitely not. Just these," he said, waving with the paddle in his hand, "kind of sports," he admitted sheepishly.

"That's great!" she exclaimed happily, making him frown in confusing. "Now I have finally someone to replace Ross with for our doubles tennis tournaments."

And there was the reason why had always kept this all a secret. He didn't know she and Ross participated in tournaments together, but he wasn't surprised at all. "He's quitting?"

"No, I just want to replace him," she shrugged. "His backhand is horrible."

"I know," he nodded, knowingly. "He claims to know what it is, but he doesn't."

"So, you'll do it?" she asked all happy and hopeful.

"No," he responded in that same tone.

"Why not? You have to! Or else…."

Before she could threaten him or before he could run, she had slid the paddle over the surface of the water.

"You know that now I'll certainly never set a foot on a tennis court with you?" he screamed, looking down at his wet shirt.

Another spat of that cold water was her answer. He turned his angry glare at her to match her own, but to his surprise he found her laughing at him. A look that suited her much better. Unable to keep a straight face, a grin appeared on his face. He still wanted to get his revenge, though, so he took a step forward. And another.

He screamed out when his foot didn't land on the sand, but instead on a pile of seashells. Now, jumping on foot, the inevitable happened as he stepped with his other foot on that pile too. Resulting in him to trip and fall face-forward in the water.

Earlier he had succeeded to avoid missteps. But being a clumsy person, these actions were just waiting around the corner.

Resurfacing, his ears were filled with laughter, coming from more than one person. He wouldn't be surprised if everyone at the beach accidentally had seen it.

He stood back up and wiped the water off his face. Monica was laughing the loudest of them all, snorting even, and doubled over in laughter. Her eyes were closed and she was gasping for air. He saw an opportunity and used his paddle just as she had used hers.

"Ahh!" she shrieked, standing frozen to her spot, her arms stretched out at her sides. "This is cold!"

"You don't say…"

"You're so gonna pay for that," she said, jumping into action and moving toward him.

Hastily, he spun around and ran out of the water to an amused looking Rachel, seemingly trying to get their attention. He stood behind Rachel, with his hands on her shoulders as if using her as a shield.

"Playtime is over, guys, dinner-" Rachel began to speak, but couldn't finish her sentence. A high-pitched scream was heard when she was hit by water.

Monica had an apologetic look on her face as she probably saw Rachel a second too late. But when Monica's eyes me Chandler's, they couldn't keep in their laughter.

Monica grabbed him by the hand. "Run!" she shouted, steering him away from an angry looking Rachel.

At least, Chandler thought, now that Rachel was mad, Monica didn't have to worry about Rachel wanting to talk to her.

* * *

Her feet were slowly sinking further into the sand as she stood until her calves in the water, looking out over the horizon. She had been standing there for quite some time now, she guessed. Just looking at how wave after wave was formed and how far each would go. Every wave was unique, and that was probably the reason why it didn't get boring.

She felt as if she were in a dreamlike state, with her thoughts having a mind of their own. But unlike dreams, this felt much more real and probable. Like it was a look into the future. And what she saw in her thoughts, gave her a lot of hope.

Unexpected, a pair of arms were wrapped around her waist. An action that took her back to the real world. As a natural reaction, she tried to free herself, but with her feet stuck, in the ground it was impossible.

"Easy there."

That familiar voice, made her relax again. A voice that belonged to one of those people she could trust. She sank back in Chandler's arms and rested her own arms on top of his.

A few hours earlier, she wouldn't have done this. But now, that the other people had left, she didn't have to worry what certain people would think when she did something. Now, she could just do whatever she felt like doing.

"Do you think it's weird that I can see the future when I look at the sea?" she asked after a few minutes more of looking at the waves.

"I think it's a sign that you should reconsider the time you're spending with Phoebe."

She chuckled and had to admit that it did sound more like something that Phoebe would say. Monica had always been open listening to Phoebe's beliefs, but she had never believed in all of that psychic stuff.

However now she wasn't able, nor willing, to let go of that image that had now taken over her thoughts.

"Am I in it?" Chandler asked curiously.

In actuality, the image wasn't that vivid to identify faces. It was all just very vague. However, it did give her a lot of hope. That the picture of her ideal future she had had for years, wasn't at all that improbable to come the true.

With the way, Chandler was holding her right now and how it made her feel protected and treasured, it was easy to replace that faceless person by him. And he fitted perfectly in that image, at her side in that house in the suburbs, where each of their had their own room.

Obviously, she wasn't going to tell him that. Chandler in his freaking out mode, could totally ruin this peaceful moment, "Unable to say goodbye to my cooking skills and my fridge, you and Joey have moved into my basement," she joked instead.

"Neat."

A comfortable silence fell again. She closed her eyes and leaned back even more. On the beach, being held by his arms, the sound of waves crashing filling her ears, she couldn't think of a place she'd rather be right now.

"Fancy a walk?"

Without saying a word, she turned in his arms and nodded. Simultaneously, they reached for each other. She slid her arm around his waist and he wrapped his arm around her shoulder, and together they walked, barefooted, in the water along the shore.

She kept her body to his as close as possible without hindering their walk. It was all she wanted now, just to be close to him.

Maybe that moment by herself staring out at the sea was all she needed to get a grip on the situation in which she had been lately. To realize that all those questions that she had asked herself thousands of times, weren't that hard, and all came down to the same answer.

And now was probably the time to do something about it.

* * *

He guessed that it was close to midnight by now, as they laid, after each having put on a sweater and sweatpants, side by side on a beach towel. The temperature was still very pleasant, which was one of the reasons why they were still here.

They were one of the few people left on the beach, but it felt as if they were the only ones left. Chandler had his arm under her head and kept her close. Since the moment he joined her by the water, they hadn't let go of one another, he had made sure that didn't happen, just because he wanted to keep that physical contact.

The sun had set a long time ago, but it wasn't dark at all. Looking out at the sea, lights from boats and ships were visible. The other light sources came from above, where Chandler and Monica's gazes were directed at. The sky was clear, so the moon and the stars could be seen. The moon reflected the light from the sun, as usual.

Living in the city, seeing stars in the night sky was pretty rare. In his youth, Chandler had seen them, and he suspected Monica did too because they both grew up outside the city. But never, had he seen so many stars as now. He used to be able to count the stars, but now, there was no point in getting started. Every second, he stared at the sky longer, the more stars seemed to appear. It was unbelievable, but also really beautiful, magical even.

"Wow," Monica said, voicing out his thoughts. It was the word that came closest to describe the sight. "Do you think we'll see a shooting star?"

He thought for a moment, but he couldn't remember Ross mentioning anything about a meteor shower during their vacation. But then again, he didn't always listen to Ross's scientific stories… "I don't think it's very likely to happen."

"Oh…," she responded, a bit disappointed.

Chandler felt guilty for making her feel like that. He guessed that the day when he would keep his mouth shut would never come. And that he was destined to ruin every single moment by saying something stupid.

"There is one!"

"Where?" he asked, trying to look in all the directions at once.

"It's gone now," she responded.

He sighed, of course it was gone now. At least, she was happy again, and that was more important than some moving light in the sky. Back home there were enough of those in the sky. Artificial ones, of course, but those counted too.

"What did you wish?" he asked, quickly glancing at her before looking up at the sky again.

She waited a while before answering, maybe contemplating whether or not it was safe to say her wish out loud. "Don't you think you should make your wishes come true instead of hoping they will come true someday by some miracle?"

He thought that one over for a few seconds. In his case, making sure a wish of his own would come true, would end disastrously. And a miracle… Well, he had yet to witness a miracle, so he didn't quite believe in them.

Too wrapped up in his thoughts, he was startled when Monica's face was suddenly a few inches away from his face, blocking his view of the sky. Confused was an understatement what he felt when her small hand cupped his cheek. "What-" he started, but choked on his own words,

"Shhh…," she whispered, placing the thumb from the hand that was laying on his cheek, over his lips. "I'm just making my wish come true."

She traced her thumb over his lips, making him swallow hard. Once the thumb had left his lips, he saw her slowly leaning further down and closing her eyes. And then, her soft lips made contact with his. They both let out a little sigh at that first contact. Chandler closed his eyes as well and held her in his arms, before responding by capturing her lips with his.

Maybe, miracles existed after all.


End file.
